Learning to Live (Again)
by VarelliaNoel
Summary: Slightly AU, rated M for adult themes/content::: In a time where most Guardians are volunteers that train for years to fight the champions of the Darkness, being a resurrected Guardian isn't much fun. A lot of baggage comes along with living after death, and sometimes it takes a lot of help just to survive the dark and terrifying nights.
1. In the Beginning

**A/N: Just a little idea I've been playing around with. Slow beginnings are slow. Just giving you a heads up. Please review and let me know what you think :)**

"Guardian?"

A voice echoed to him from the surrounding darkness. His tired bones called him back to sleep, begging for rest, but the feminine voice was insistent.

"Eyes up, Guardian."

He tried to open his eyes but the lids were so heavy, and the sweet beckoning of dreamless sleep was so inviting. Slowly, he became aware of his body. Muscles he didn't even know he possessed screamed in protest as he tried to sit up. Light sent shards of icy agony streaming into his brain when he finally opened his eyes, the pain pulsing from each eye to the top of his spinal cord with each beat of his heart.

"W-Where am I?" His voice was hoarse and speaking felt like swallowing mouthfuls of broken glass down his sore throat. Thoroughly disoriented and half blind, he scanned his surroundings. He was in the middle of a field, but there was no waving grass or sweet scented breeze to greet him. The earth was torn, and there were large dips with jagged pieces of broken rebar jutting up in places, as if an underground structure had collapsed….

Memories came flooding back, broken and with large chunks missing. His hands flew to his head, fingers fisting in the dirty, shoulder length hair. The agony of half-formed remembrances mounted upon his already throbbing headache, and he gasped for breath until the memories faded along with some of the pain.

"Easy, Guardian. I know this isn't easy for you. You've been dead a long time."

Looking around for the source of the slightly mechanical but still pleasantly female voice, his eyes fell upon an oddly shaped floating…thing. And it was staring at him. It had a single green diamond shaped 'eye', and a very geometric body shape. Purple in color, the outer plates expanded outwards from the little thing, revealing a glowing ball of blue light.

"What are you?"

"I'm a Ghost. Well, now I'm _your_ Ghost. And you're my Guardian."

"What's a Ghost?"

"Ghosts are AIs that were created from the Traveler and its Light. We seek out Guardians to recruit to fight the Darkness, and in some cases, bring beings back from the dead to fight for the cause. Which is why you're here now."

Dead. He'd been _dead_. Flashes of broken memory played in his mind, memories filled with fear and stifling blackness, and then… His eyes flew open. Clumsily, he made his way to his feet, forcing legs that hadn't been used in he didn't know how long to hold his weight and keep him upright. A wave of dizziness slammed into him and he dropped back down to his hands and knees. He vomited bitter bile into the dead weeds sparsely strewn about in front of him.

After a few stabilizing breaths, he sat back on his heels and stared up into the sky. It was comfortable, reassuring. It was the same sky he'd been born under. It was beautiful. It was _normal_. After what he'd discovered, he desperately needed normal. After a few moments, the Ghost started speaking to him again. Her voice, though strange and robotic, was oddly comforting.

"I know none of this makes sense right now, and that you're probably afraid and extremely confused right now, but this isn't exactly a safe place for us to discuss everything. Safer than most places, maybe, but I only just got you. I'd rather not lose you in the first day."

Without moving his head, he glanced over, watching her from the corner of his eye. She was bobbing up and down in place and twitching the back half of her body, her strangely iridescent green eye darting nervously from place to place.

"Do you have a name, Ghost? Or is that what I'm supposed to call you?" She fixed her eye on him and floated closer, an almost hopeful look about her.

"You're my only Guardian, so I've only ever been referred to as 'Ghost'. But you may name me if you like."

He detected a hint of a smile in her mechanized voice, and he couldn't help the slight tug at the corners of his mouth. He stood, and though it was much easier this time, he still felt the wobbling muscles of his legs straining to keep him up.

"I'll think of something once I get to know you better. But if it's not safe here, we should probably get moving."

The Ghost dipped once and turned toward a distant line of buildings. As she zoomed away from him, he sighed. He could barely stand, but he was going to force his body to carry him away from that field, away from the memories, and into a new life.

O.o.O.o.O

After wat seemed like hours of silent struggle in which he trudged along, thinking of names his Ghost might like and trying not to focus on the fact that his body was going to give out at any moment, she stopped him. Rather, she stopped and he walked into her, smacking his forehead against her metal back shell.

"I thought I told you eyes up, Guardian?"

He couldn't help the exhausted chuckle that escaped him. A blueish-green beam of light was coming out of her eye, and she was running the beam up and down his body repeatedly. After a few moments, her eye returned to normal.

"We need to get you to the Tower. I'll be lucky if you don't fall apart on me in the next ten minutes."

With his eyes so focused on watching the ground pass by under his feet, he hadn't noticed that they'd actually made it to the deserted buildings. There was no road, and no sign that anyone had been to that area in years. Wind had swept earth over the asphalt streets, and over the years, Mother Nature had been working to reclaim what was rightfully hers.

Climbing vines disguised most of the walls, with only the barest hint of brick peeking through in places. He thought there were three buildings, but it may have been more. Or less. Without some further investigating, there was no way he could tell.

The Ghost was muttering to herself as she hovered about. She seemed to be looking for something, and occasionly her shell would separate to reveal the blue orb at her center. He decided to take the time to rest his legs while she was busy, and sat as gracefully as he could with his back leaning up against one of the ivy covered walls.

The glassless windows looked to him like empty eyes, staring out over the vast expanse of the sepia toned field. As her gazed out over the land, he had a strange sense of déjà vu. He'd been here before, sat just like this, staring out but seeing nothing as he daydreamed. The feeling was overwhelming. He blinked rapidly a few times to try and clear his head, but the feeling stuck.

"I think I lived here," he said. His Ghost floated closer, her attention now focused on him. "I remember this view. It was different, greener, but it's almost exactly the same." His headache was coming back, and the more he tried to recall any facts or details he could, the pain only grew.

"Don't push it. You'll only hurt yourself. You'll remember in time." Her words seemed to break the spell. He shook his head a bit and rubbed the back of his neck. After pulling his hand away, he examined the black skintight mesh weave that seemed to cover his entire body from his neck down. It looked tough, but it was flexible, and the fabric breathed well enough that he'd barely noticed he was wearing it.

"What is this?" he asked.

"It's your undersuit. I tried to gather enough materials to fabricate some armor to go over it, but there just isn't enough out here for me to work with. I had barely enough to make _that_." She seemed not to notice how dumbfounded he was that the garment had been created by her. She didn't even have _hands_.

"I need to find a ship we can use. My initial scans of the area turned up one promising lead, but it seems to be further away than I originally thought." She hovered away from him a bit and then drifted slowly back. "I know you're beyond tired, but we really need to get moving. I'm detecting a Fallen skiff inbound, and without the proper armor and weapons, we won't stand a chance."

Another sigh escaped him. Beyond tired wasn't the only thing he was in that moment, but he picked himself up off the ground anyway. Gesturing for her to lead the way, they ventured off again, moving past the group of buildings towards a larger barn-like structure. The Ghost was moving at a much faster pace than she had been before. Whatever the Fallen were, she really didn't want to be around when they showed up.

By the time they reached the lone structure, he was far beyond exhausted. Willing his vehemently protesting muscled to cooperate, he pulled the door open wide enough for him to fit through and stepped inside. The interior was dark, but before his panic could fully set in, a light erupted from his Ghost's eye.

Dust motes floated across the beam of light, and the distinct tang of fuel permeated the stale air. Her shriek of excitement both startled him and alerted him to the fact that they'd found what she'd been looking for. It was dusty and rusted, but the ship looked sturdy enough to him. By the way the little Ghost was flitting around and chattering excitedly, he figured she thought so too.

He could just make out a rumbling noise coming from outside, and was tempted to find the source of the sound, but his legs didn't seem like they didn't want to obey. So he stayed where he was and focused on not collapsing into a heap on the ground.

The rumbling was getting louder, and just when he thought to bring it to his Ghost's attention, she made a beeping noise and he was in a totally different space and his stomach was in his throat. On his hands and knees again, he dry heaved at the instantaneous nausea of his first transmat.

"Sprry about that. I would have tried to warn you, but that Fallen skiff I was telling you about just showed up and we need to get out of here, like, _fifteen minutes ago_." His only response was another heave as his empty stomach protested the abuse. Lights winked to life all around him and he could hear the roar of engines starting up somewhere to his left. Reaching out, his hand found the back of a cracked leather chair. He used it to stabilize him while he stood up. Once he was steady enough, he made his way around and promptly planted himself down in the chair.

It faced a panel of blinking LEDs and touchscreen navigation panels. Just in front and to the left of his face was a clear pane of glass on a swiveling metal arm. He guessed it was the ships heads up display. The ship was roomier than he was initially suspected it would be. His Ghost was scanning the control panel, and all he got was a quick "Hang on!" before he was thrust against the back of the chair as the ship broke through the doors of the old barn and quickly made its way up into the sky.

As their flight plan leveled out and their speed slowed to a more comfortable pace, he relaxed back into the chair. It was worn and smelled like its previous occupant had died whilst sitting in it, but for him it was the most comfortable thing he'd ever sat in. He could feel his eyes drifting closed, but there was something he needed to ask.

"Hey Ghost," he called over to her where she piloted the little ship. "How do you like the name Evie?" She rotated her back shell and twitched a few times before her eye settled on him again.

"Evie," she parroted back as if she were tasting the word. "I like it very much. Evie."

She repeated the name a few more times and then lapsed into silence again. Except for the slightly brighter glow showing between the cracks of her shell, he wouldn't have thought she actually liked it. But she seemed almost _proud_ to be named.

Done fighting with his eyelids, he finally let them slide closed. Just before he drifted off to sleep, he inhaled deeply.

"Hello, Evie," he said quietly. "It's very nice to meet you. My name is Vincent."

Evie bleeped a short acknowledgement, and Vincent drifted off into a blissful, quiet sleep.


	2. Without Form

**A/N: Okay so I wasn't planning on finishing this chapter today. I was going to take my time, write it over a few days instead of all in one go. As you can tell, that...didn't happen. My dyslexia was getting away from me pretty bad today. I did edit, but sometimes i still cant pick up on it so if some words seem like they don't make sense just try rearranging the letters. LOL sorry. Please let me know if you like it, love it, hate t, want it to burn in hell, etc. ANY feedback is good feedback. :)**

"What is this place?" Vincent didn't bother trying to hide the awe in his voice. After Evie had woken him, she'd transmatted him out of the ship into a large, open area that bustled with activity. There were stairs to his right and left leading off into other areas. Writing on the walls marked them as the Tower Hangar and Tower North. People were moving about with a purpose, and each of them in full suits of armor and dripping with deadly looking weapons.

"This is the Tower, where the Guardians live. It stands watch over the last safe city on Earth-the only place the Traveler can still protect. It took centuries to build. Now, we're counting every day it stands."

Behind him, over the guard rail that stood between all the activity and what looked to be a very long, terrifying fall, he could see the city Evie described. And in the distance, a larger than life white orb hovering over the center of the city. The Traveler… The last time he'd seen it, it had been whole and undamaged. Now, it was broken and lifeless.

"What happened to the Traveler?" Evie floated over just beyond the rail, her back shell twitching slightly to the left then rotating clockwise once.

"The Darkness happened," she stated simply. "It followed the Traveler to this system, hell bent on destroying everything that had ever felt the Light. The Traveler sacrificed itself to save humanity, and the City was built in its shadow. It's the only place the Darkness can't touch."

Vincent was silent for a long time. The Traveler sacrificing itself to save them all… He shook his head, willing away thoughts that were centuries old and no longer relevant. Turning back to Evie, he signaled her to lead the way to wherever they were going next. She hadn't said much about their end destination, and he hadn't asked.

Despite sticking out like a sore thumb in just his undersuit, the other Guardians barely seemed to notice him. Following Evie's amethystine shell, he weaved through the crowds, doing his best not to bump into anyone. Across the courtyard and down a set of stairs they went, past a rather odd looking woman speaking to some of the guardians in hushed tones. They threaded between two tables, one manned by a humanoid machine, the other by a man dressed head to toe in impressive looking gear.

Evie led him down another set of stairs to a large room with a table standing in the center. The back wall was entirely made of glass, and through it he could just make out a beautiful view of rolling hills dotted sparsely with small trees. Around the table stood a man, a woman, and another machine. This machine was different, more human in appearance than the other one just outside.

Upon his entrance into the room, the three at the table turned and regarded him silently. He didn't know what to say, but Evie took care of that for him. She floated to the man at the far end of the table, and Vincent noticed that the man had lavender skin and eyes that glowed a bright blue. Hovering near the man's ear, Evie whispered something to him. After a few moments, the man nodded and Evie flew back to Vincent's side. He gave her a questioning look, but she remained silent.

"Welcome, Guardian," the sizable man said. "You'll have to forgive our rudeness; it has been some time since one of your kind has graced our presence." At his words, the other two shifted uncomfortably, as if embarrassed by their behavior. "I am Commander Zavala, the Titan Vanguard. This is Ikora Rey, the Warlock Vanguard," he gestured to the dark skinned woman closest to Vincent. "And this is Cayde-6, the Hunter Vanguard."

The Hunter gave a flamboyant bow before standing straight again. Vincent got the feeling he should say something, but was still at a loss for words. So much had happened since he'd been woken by Evie. Despite the sleep he'd gotten as they flew to the Tower, he was still exhausted. He wasn't sure how much longer his body would be able to stay upright. Thankfully, the vanguards seemed to know exactly what he was thinking, and what Zavala said next made him breathe a huge sigh of relief.

"Go and rest, Guardian. You need it. We can reconvene in the morning to discuss your future here at the Tower."

And just like that, he was dismissed. He turned slowly, doing his best to avoid another wave of nausea. Evie flew just ahead of him, and having her small body to focus on was a great help in walking steadily and not falling over every few minutes. She seemed to know her way around well enough so he didn't ask where they were headed. He didn't really care so long as there was a quiet, flat space where he could lie down and sleep.

They went up another flight of stairs near the entrance to the north wing of the Tower, and he managed to keep his stumbling down to a minimum. There was a large set of double doors made from sturdy looking wood trimmed with bright steel. The word DORMS was written across the doors in large, white letters.

Once through the doors, Evie led him down a long hallway lined on the left and right with smaller, white doors with numbers stamped in black paint on them. Some of the doors were open, revealing sparsely decorated, military style dorm rooms complete with two cots and a single desk and chair. He followed her down the hallway, squeezing by another Guardian dressed in more causal garb. She took a right turn at a four way intersection, and at the next dead end took a left turn. Stopping outside a seemingly random room marked with the numbers 117, Evie faced him.

"This is where we'll be staying," she stated. "There's already one occupant, but he's been marked as a potential mentor and future fire team member, so it looks like you'll be seeing a lot of him. I've read his file. It seems to me like he'll be a good match."

He stood dumbfounded for a few moments, just trying to process all the information. After a few seconds of trying, he gave up and just opened the door. The room was blissfully empty. The beds against the back wall were stacked, leaving much of the floor space empty save for the desk that sat against the wall to his right.

Stumbling into the room and nudging the door closed behind him he made for the nearest bed. The blankets were undisturbed, the pillow a crisp white, fluffy mound of pure happiness. Not even caring that he still work the black mesh undersuit, he pulled the blankets back and crawled into the bed. It was the nicest thing he'd felt since he'd left the empty blackness of death for the light of this odd new life. Settling in against the soft mattress, he was asleep before he knew it.

Evie hovered over her newborn Guardian for a few moments, studying him. She'd made the right choice by bringing him back, she was sure of it. There were so few Guardians to resurrect anymore, the Tower relied mostly on the volunteers that stepped forth from the living population of the Last City to bolster their ranks. They needed all the help they could get.

Giving him one last long, thoughtful stare, she brought herself to rest on the desk and prepared to go into low power mode to recharge her Light. Just before powering down she whispered into the dimly lit room, her voice carrying all of her hopes and fears.

"Goodnight, Vincent."

O.o.O.o.O

She'd noticed him the very moment his feet had touched the pale brick flooring of the Tower courtyard. No one else seemed to pay him any mind, assuming he was a new recruit fresh from training in the City below. No one else saw the hopelessly lost look in his eyes, the confusion as he tried to take in everything around him. No one else noticed that he even existed in the same space as them, but she did. Oh, how she did.

She watched him, followed him as his Ghost led him away down the stairs to the Hall of Guardians. Sticking to the shadows, she simply observed. The way he moved, as if every bone in his body would break without warning at the slightest wrong step. The way his eyes stayed glued to his Ghost, as if she was a lifeline, the only familiar thing in this new, strange world. She saw him glance away for a moment, quickly taking in the Crucible weapons vendor, his face openly showing his awed confusion.

Her heart ached for him. Standing just outside the doorway that led down into the sunken pit where the Vanguards usually did their work, she saw him hesitate. His Ghost floated to Zavala for a moment before returning to his side. Zavala spoke, his usually booming voice unnaturally soft and soothing.

Of course they knew. He stood out to them just as he did to her. It had been so long since a Guardian had been brought in from the far reaches like this. Of course they would be a bit more delicate with him. Cayde, ever watchful and constantly aware of his surroundings, shot her a look where she was tucked neatly into the shadows. He was not chastising her for wanting to be near the new Guardian. He simply understood.

Zavala dismissed the Guardian, and he seemed almost grateful. She knew the feeling all too well. She stepped back around the corner as he turned and she caught her first good look at his face since he'd arrived. Strong jaw and a straight nose, paired with a strong chin and proportionate forehead. After her observation, she slipped away from her hiding spot and resumed following him.

They were heading for the dorms when she realized her stealth tactics weren't needed. It was where she had been headed before he'd transmatted into the plaza and captivated her attention. And he wasn't really focusing much on his surroundings anyway. She made note of the turns they made, surprised to notice that the door they stopped in front of wasn't very far from her own room.

Good. It would be easier keep an eye on him this way. Reluctantly moving past his doorway, she continued on to her own room. Her Ghost popped into existence once they were safely inside and she removed her now empty helmet and placed it on her desk. She sat on the edge of her bed, eyes staring blankly at the wall across from her.

"Emily?" The quiet voice of her Ghost dragged her from her thoughts. "Are you okay?"

She thought for a moment. It had been fourteen months since her own Ghost had brought her back from the dead. She'd woken screaming, clawing at the ground and whatever else she could get her hands on. It had taken her a long time to acclimate to the new world, and sometimes she still felt as if she were a stranger here, a wolf among sheep. Most of the other Guardians were afraid of her. The others wanted nothing to do with her. Her heart went out to the newest Guardian. She could only hope he adjusted better than she had.

"I'm fine, Ajax," she told her little matte black Ghost. His bright blue eye studied her for a moment, and he wondered if he'd call bullshit, but he didn't say anything.

In the morning, she'd go and speak with Cayde, but for now she would rest. Having just gotten back from patrolling the Cinders on Venus, she needed to report her findings. Nothing had been out of the ordinary, and taking some of her pent-up anger out on the Vex army had been a wonderful release. She was more clear-headed now than she had been in days.

After stripping her armor, she grabbed a change of clothes and headed for the showers. She would clean herself up, grab something to eat at the mess hall, and then retire for the night. With her plan cemented in her mind, she picked an empty shower stall, closed the door behind her, and let the hot water wash the day away.


	3. And There Was Light

**A/N: So there are parts of this chapter that I wrote, rewrote, and then wrote again. And I'm STILL not quite happy with it, but i don't think I can do much better with my limited skill set. Bear with me through awkward introductions. Also, the song I'm thinking of when the music part rolls around (trying not to give too much away) is Skullclub by The Glitch Mob. It just fits imo. I listen to their albums on repeat a lot cuz i really just love their stuff (Love Death Immortality is the best album I've ever freaking heard, it just blows my mind start to finish). So a lot of my influence comes from them, Ruelle (who I'm sure will be making a lyrical appearance at some point in the future), and Audiomachine. And also Two Steps From Hell. And of course the Destiny soundtrack. Anywho, enough of my babbling, and on with the show! I hope you enjoy it and please let me know what I can do better.**

When he woke, it was violent and panicked. He'd been dreaming about something, but the only thing he remembered was the terror. Sitting bolt upright in the bed, he smashed his head into the underside of the bunk above him. Before he could stop himself, he was cursing loudly in the dimly lit room, holding his palm tightly against the sore spot just in his hairline. After the sharp pain subsided, he pulled his hand away and checked for blood.

"You ok?"

The voice startled him so much that he jumped and smacked his head against the bed above for the second time. Through his second string of expletives, Vincent could hear muffled laughter coming from just above him. He opened his eyes, gingerly feeling the top of his head for broken skin. Only finding a rapidly growing lump, he searched for the source of the laughter. It didn't take him long to find it.

Hanging upside down off the side of the bed so that only his head was visible was a strange man with his hand over his mouth, struggling to hold in his laughter. In the inky darkness, the man's pale grey skin seemed like it glowed from within with a strange, swirling light. His eyes, when they finally opened, glowed a bright amber.

"Sorry for laughing, I can't help myself," the pale man said. He was quite the odd picture, this upside down glowing man. Vincent thought he might look more normal if he were right side up. "You're a jumpy son of a bitch, aren't you?"

Grinning sheepishly, still rubbing his sore scalp, he apologized. "Sorry. I think I was having a nightmare."

The man's head disappeared up over the edge of the bed. After a second of shuffling about, he climbed down to the floor. Dressed in a loose fitting t-shirt and sweatpants, he thrust his hand out in Vincent's direction. After a moment's hesitation, Vincent took it and the man shook his hand enthusiastically.

"I'm Sam. Sorry for scaring the shit out of you." Sam was still grinning a bit when he ended the handshake. "Ikora told me I'd finally be getting a roommate. It gets kind of lonely in here all by myself, y'know? Anyway, it's nice to meet you."

"My name's Vincent," he said. He scanned the room looking for Evie, but she was nowhere to be seen. Slightly distressed by the disappearance of the only familiar thing he had, he calmed a bit when a different Ghost winked into existence near Sam's head. This Ghost had a dull bronze colored shell and a white eye.

"I'm Blink," the bronze Ghost said. "Evie says she won't be gone much longer. She had a few things to take care of before morning. She _also_ says that you should go back to sleep. You have a long day ahead of you."

Sam could read the confusion written plainly on Vincent's face. "The Ghosts are all connected, so they can communicate fairly easily back and forth. But I have to agree with your Ghost. You probably should get some rest. You look kind of exhausted."

"Yeah, well," Vincent chuckled. "I kind of am." Reassured that Evie was somewhere nearby, he laid back in the bed, absently running his hand through his hair over the two knots he'd just acquired. Moving like some big cat, Sam gracefully pulled himself back onto the top bunk and settled in as well.

Vincent's mind was racing. After the rude awakening from his deep sleep, he was still tired, but his thoughts ran circles around each other in his head. After a few minutes, he heard a slight snoring coming from above. He wasn't able to relax until Evie appeared beside him, her normally bright eye dimmed so as not to blind him.

"Sleep, Vincent," she urged in her best imitation of a whisper. "You really do need all the rest you can get."

Seeking to oblige the little AI's wishes, he rolled onto his right side, facing the white brick wall. Closing his eyes and breathing deeply, he willed his mind to still. He imagined laying in the field like he always used to, counting stars and naming the constellations.

 _Cassiopeia, Lacerta, Chepheus, Cygnus, Ursa Major, Ursa Minor… Draco….. Hercules…. Lyra…. Serpens….._

Evie's shell twitched as Vincent's heartrate slowed and his breathing evened out. He needed the rest, that was certain, but she couldn't wait for the morning when she could show him the things she'd gotten for him. She only hoped he'd like them.

O.o.O.o.O

Evie was very proud of her findings, and she wasn't trying hard to hide the fact at all. Standing before the Vanguards in his brand new armor, courtesy of his slightly puffed up Ghost, Vincent was more than a little nervous. They were staring at him critically, and had been for the past few minutes. He stood still as a stone and tried not to breathe too loudly in the quiet room. Finally, the Hunter Vanguard spoke.

"Well, I'm sorry to tell ya, kid, but you're just not Hunter material," Cayde stated. Vincent was curious as to what he meant, but remained silent while they mused.

"I have to agree. You're just too…" Ikora paused, as if searching for the right words.

"You're built like a brick shithouse, kid," Cayde finished for her. "You're just too damn _big_ to be as agile as Hunters need to be. No offense," he tacked on as an afterthought.

"Cayde is right. You are rather large to be considered a Hunter." It was the first time Zavala had spoken that morning, and the slightly hopeful tone had Vincent thrown. He was contemplating asking what the big deal was when Ikora spoke.

"His size doesn't necessarily mean he can't be a Warlock, though." She was giving Zavala a strange look, almost as if she was willing him to back down and give up the fight. Zavala only gave her a slight smirk. Vincent shifted his feet, suddenly worried about the shift in atmosphere.

That morning, Sam had clued him into a few things about the Tower and how it operated. Sam had stated that he was a Warlock, so he reported directly to Ikora for instructions, though the Vanguards worked together in approving which teams were given what mission. Having been a volunteer from the City, Sam had been hand chosen by Ikora for Warlock training, a fact which he was immensely proud of. He'd explained something about Super abilities as well, but Evie had been crowing about the armor she'd found and so he'd only been listening with half an ear.

"I know what he is," Evie said matter-of-factly from his left. All three Vanguards gave her their full attention. "I've studied his personality matrix thoroughly, and based on my findings, as well as his relative size and strength, I find him worthy of the mantle of Titan."

Zavala's booming laugh immediately filled the room. Vincent didn't really understand what any of it meant, or why it mattered if he was a Titan. But the Vanguards seemed to care, and by the look on Ikora's face as she watched Zavala regain his composure, she was disappointed and maybe a little bit jealous.

"Are you certain of this, little Ghost?" Ikora asked politely. Evie bobbed in place once in her own version of a nod. Cayde chuckled a bit from where he leaned against the table, arms crossed over his chest.

"You've got some gumption, Ghost," the Hunter stated. "I like that. Take good care of him."

Zavala came around the table and moved to Vincent's side, where he placed a gauntleted hand on Vincent's shoulder. He was led into a more secluded corner of the room. "I know this probably seems like it's all going very fast for you, and I apologize for that, but we need all available warriors in the field. We've notified your new teammates, and they'll be arriving in a few moments to take you out and show you the ropes. Nothing major today, just the basics.

"Your Ghost should be able to answer most any question you may have, but you're also welcome to come and speak with me, or the other Vanguards, about any issues you may be having." Zavala stepped back, a more thoughtful, serious look coming over his face. "Most of the Guardians here are volunteers, so they don't know what it's like for you. It's likely they won't even realize that you were recently woken from the dead. It is your choice whether or not you divulge that information. Just know that you're not alone here."

Before Vincent could respond, two Guardians walked into the pit and came to a stop just before the table. They wore full armor and had long, deadly-looking rifles slung over their backs. Zavala led him back to the table, and Vincent took his place beside the two Guardians. He recognized Sam in a rust-colored robe-like garment, his unruly indigo hair pushed back out of his face. The other guardian he didn't recognize. She was short and lithe, with pale blue skin and short, spiked white hair. Her features were strikingly beautiful. _Awoken,_ Evie had informed him.

She'd done her best to bring him up to speed on the different species that now inhabited the planet. He'd had the most trouble differentiating between Exos and Frames. Exos were sentient beings, capable of thought and feeling. Frames were programmed to have a certain personality and were helpers around the Tower. Both were essential if the Last City was going to survive. Thoroughly confused, Vincent wanted nothing more than to stop learning new things, if only so his brain could have a moment to rest.

"The first Titans built the Wall, and gave their lives to defend it. Now," Zavala went on, "you stand in the same high place, steadfast and sure, protecting all who shelter in your shadow. You hail from a long line of heroes, forged from strength and sacrifice. Our enemies may be deadly and merciless, but so are you. Welcome, Titan."

Sam caught Vincent's attention and gave him a double thumbs-up accompanied by a toothy grin. The small Hunter just looked him up and down before facing the Vanguards, seemingly disinterested. Noticing her behavior, Sam shrugged at him.

"Travel to the Terrestrial Complex in the Cosmodrome. A powerful Servitor is scouring the area for mass and energy to refine into Ether, and it must be destroyed," Zavala said with menace.

"You have your mission, Guardians. Don't screw it up," Cayde added with a chuckle.

"Traveler's Light be with you," Ikora said solemnly.

O.o.O.o.O

Standing over the dead body of a Fallen Vandal and heaving for breath, Vincent missed the condescending look Mirena was giving him through her polarized visor. She'd been stonily quiet since leaving the Tower, content to keep to herself. Sam was obviously put off by her rude behavior, and had no problem letting her know that he wasn't happy about it.

"Mirena, I know you enjoy being such a royal bitch, but neither of us asked you to be here, so if you could cut it out that'd be awesome."

She scoffed, sheathing her knife and turning abruptly so that her cloak billowed out behind her. Feeling more like a burden than he ever remembered, Vincent straightened and made to follow Sam as he led them towards the supposed location of the Servitor. Whatever _that_ was. He held his rifle across his chest, muzzle pointed towards the ground and trigger finger resting just outside the guard.

He couldn't remember ever handling a weapon before, but with so much of his past life still wreathed in darkness he suspected that perhaps he'd had some military training. Eyes on the horizon, Evie kept him up to date on enemy movements and objectives from her spot in his helmet. He'd been very surprised to find out that while out in the field, the Ghosts meshed with their Guardian's helmet interface and created a heads up display, and only came out to analyze samples, scan interesting findings, or work through the locking mechanisms on doors, among other things.

They'd been walking towards their objective for several minutes, taking their time while Sam answered Vincent's many questions, when he heard that distant rumble again. It was the same noise he'd heard the day before, when he and Evie had been searching for a ship to bring them to the tower. What had she called it?

"Fallen skiff inbound from the northwest," Blink called out over the comms. Sure enough, a strangely insectoid ship was steadily heading straight for them, skimming just over the tops of the buildings surrounding them. Vincent's hands tightened on his rifle. Waving them towards cover, Sam led them towards a grouping of old shipping crates and into the garage-like open building to the right. The skiff flew over their position and continued on over the building towards the next clearing.

They listened as the engine noise continue for another minute and then slowly faded away. Breaking cover, Sam stepped around the shipping containers and popped his head up over the low wall separating them from the clearing ahead, and beyond that, their objective. He signaled them forward after a few breaths and then ducked down as they approached.

"Okay, so, there's a lot more resistance than we were expecting. That skiff just dropped off four vandals and a couple dregs. Which puts us at… six vandals, at least eight dregs, and maybe four or five shanks." To Vincent, it sounded as though they were highly outnumbered. Eighteen against three didn't sound like favorable odds at all. "Piece of cake, right?"

How did Sam expect this to be _easy_? But it was too late to raise any objections. Mirena had already flung herself up and over the low barrier and was charging the group of enemies, her hand cannon blasting away as she went. Sam gave him one last look and then pulled himself over the wall as well. Sighing heavily, Vincent climbed up after them.

Mirena had already taken down one of the vandals and the shanks, her expert precision making quick work of anything that got caught in her sights. Sam had taken the right flank and was steadily firing his automatic rifle at the nearest vandal. Couching the butt of his rifle against his shoulder, Vincent took the left flank, firing short, three round bursts into one enemy after another until his clip was empty.

He checked the status of his teammates as he reloaded, making sure he kept moving. Finding another target, he took aim. This vandal was tougher, and Vincent found himself dodging bullets as he strafed left. Suddenly there was a sharp impact just between his shoulder blades, knocking him off balance. His shields, already mostly depleted from the return fire of the vandal, went down completely, leaving him with only his armor between him and dying. Which he did _not_ want to do again.

A loud, resounding crack echoed from somewhere far behind him, but he was focused on putting rounds in his target and couldn't look to find the source of the noise. When the vandal finally fell, he spun wildly, intent on using his fists to smash whatever was attacking him from behind. But there was nothing there. A few feet away lay a dead dreg, a blade in clutched in one still-twitching hand, missing the top half of its head.

Figuring one of his team mates had covered his back, he focused on reloading. His shaking hands didn't make the task any easier. When he finally had the magazine inserted the correct was and the gun properly loaded and ready for use, he found that the only enemy left was impaled in Mirena's blade. For someone of such small stature, she was a fierce fighter. Vincent made a mental note not to pick any fights with Hunters.

Giving one last look behind him, searching for any sign that whoever had saved him hadn't been one of the two within thirty feet of him, he thought he saw a glint far away on a rooftop situated against the wall. But the distance was too great for him to be able to clearly see what might be there, and Sam was already calling him to move forward.

Inside the complex, they walked through a ventilation shaft, ducking by long stilled fan blades as they went. Just before the doorway into the area the servitor was reported to be, Evie spoke. His radar indicator showed many enemy signatures ahead. His adrenaline revamped, flooding his system with energy so that his heart pounded in his ears and almost drowned out Evie's gentle voice.

"Are you ready for this, Vince?" He shook out his left hand before replacing it under the barrel of his rifle. Sam and Mirena were watching him, and he gave them a sharp nod to indicate that he was as ready as he'd ever be.

"Alright, let's do this. Blink? Put my jam on."

Music came over the comms then, and Mirena's exasperated sigh was heard loud and clear over the beat. With a happy wave, Sam ducked into the room, his auto rifle firing nonstop. Mirena dashed in behind him, determined to get more kills than either of them. Unable to help the grin that split his face at Sam's antics and Mirena's competitiveness, Vincent followed them into the fray.

Through the storm of bodies and bullets Vincent could see a huge purple orb floating around, occasionally firing a blast from its center. Letting himself feel the driving tempo of the music, he fell into motion, dodging and firing, dodging and firing. Reloading in cover behind a pillar, he caught sight of Mirena out of the corner of his eye. Doing a double take, his mouth fell open behind his mask.

A blue aura surrounded her and her blades were wreathed in lightening. Impossibly fast, she spun from enemy to enemy, slicing her way through them like they were made of thin cloth instead of flesh and bone. He was so amazed by what he was seeing he didn't realize Sam had already destroyed the Servitor and that, essentially, their mission was complete.

When she finally returned to normal after the last of the Fallen were vanquished, Mirena took a few calming breaths. She returned her blades to the sheathes strapped along the lengths of her thighs and gave Sam a one-handed thumbs up. Vincent couldn't help himself.

"What the hell _was_ that?"

Sam burst out laughing and nearly dropped his rifle at Vincent's sudden outburst. Mirena slung her rifle up onto her right shoulder and cocked a hip. "That, my dear newbie, was a Bladedancer at work."


	4. Divide the Light from the Darkness

**A/N: Here we go! I don't write action well if you couldn't tell y the last chapter, but I'm doing my best. If anyone has any tips or tricks you'd like to share I'd greatly appreciate it. There is cursing in this story, and that's not going to change, so I'd like my reader's opinions on whether or not I should up the rating to an M. I'll probably do it anyway just to be safe. As always, please review and let me know what you think or if you have any suggestions or anything I could be doing better. Thanks for reading!**

"Emily, you know very well that he can take care of himself now, right?" Ajax's light voice carried through over the comms. She snorted. Over the past six months, she and Ajax had been keeping an eye on the new Titan, keeping him out of trouble. He seemed to be doing much better than he had at first, and he'd progressed more quickly than she had anticipated. Still, she felt protective of him, and was loathe to give up what little contact with him that she had access to, one-sided as it was.

Rolling her eyes, she was reluctant to admit that Ajax was right. "He's still new to this," she protested. "He leaves his back wide open most of the time. Someone's got to watch it," she stated. Not that his fire team wasn't. They just weren't doing as good a job as she could.

"I don't know how much longer we can keep at this, Em. Cayde has been pretty lenient in allowing you to take missions that coincide with your Titan's, but he can't keep giving you special treatment. Something's got to give."

Again, he was right. Cayde _had_ been making special arrangements for her, and it wasn't fair for her to keep asking him to. He knew how important this was to her though, and had been swinging recon missions her way almost every day. Infiltrate, extract whatever information she thought might be useful, and then beat a hasty retreat. In everyone else's eyes, it was a complete coincidence that each mission she was handed happened to be in the same area the Titan's fire team was handling their business.

She sighed. With her left eye closed against the harsh desert sun, she rested her cheek against the stock of her rifle, her right eye lined up perfectly with the long range scope mounted on top. She'd already completed her mission taking out one of the more prominent Colossi in the area. Now, they were waiting. Seeing no movement, she opened her left eye again and let her mind wander some. There was so much _red_ on this planet. Mars had always been one of her least favorite places to go, with its dry heat and scorching sun. And the Cabal.

"Enemies incoming," Ajax alerted her. Pulling her mind away from everything else she searched through her scope for the aforementioned enemies. So focused was she that she almost missed the next words Ajax uttered. "I think you should just talk to him."

She had no time to reply. Sauntering onto the scene were the three Guardians she'd been waiting on. Nearly laughing out loud at how confident the new Titan become in such a short amount of time, she opened her left eye to get a good look at the whole scene as it unfolded. There were several Vex milling about, but when they caught sight of the invaders they sprang into action.

The Hunter on the team was cocky, charging to the front and wading into the middle of the group of machines. More hesitant were the other two, choosing to hang back and pick off the enemies their comrade left standing. From her vantage point on a tall sand dune nearby, she could see something that they couldn't.

At the first sound of gunfire that rang out in the little canyon, Cabal soldiers had come pouring out of a nearby compound that had been built into a cliff. They were rapidly charging the Guardians from behind. Taking aim with her high powered rifle, she slowed her breathing, lined up her shot, and exhaled. In the space between heartbeats, she slowly squeezed the trigger.

The report echoed loudly of the sand, the weapons recoil slamming the butt of the rifle painfully into her shoulder. She ignored it, already accustomed to the pain. It would fade. The Phalanx fell, his shield dropping to the sand. Knowing that her shot had alerted the team to the presence of other enemies, she took aim again, lining up her shot as perfectly as she could. Just as she was exhaling in preparation for the shot, Ajax stopped her.

"Wait," he ordered. Pulling her finger from the trigger, she placed it just outside the guard and waited. "I want to see what happens," Ajax explained. Skeptical but willing to oblige, she sighted in on the fire team. They were surrounded, enemies firing at them from all sides. Her trigger finger twitched. She watched a moment longer as the Warlock placed his back against the Titan's, spraying bullets into the crush of enemies haphazardly.

"Fuck this, I'm not gonna watch them die." Taking aim again, she targeted the nearest Cabal she could and squeezed. Too hasty. The shot went wide, burying itself in the red sand two inches left of its intended target.

"Emily!" Ajax had never spoken to her like that before. The usually gentle Ghost had materialized to her right and she glared at him. "Just. _Watch._ "

Huffing in protest, she did as her Ghost said. Refocusing through the sight, she found them still in turmoil. The Hunter was in her Bladedancer's trance, flying from foe to foe, but it wasn't enough. The power seeped away from her, and she was left with many more enemies to dispose of and little energy to do it with.

The small form found its way back to its team, and now all three had their backs together, firing round after round in desperation. And then it all happened so quickly if she'd blinked she would have missed it. The Warlock was reloading when a bullet broke through his limited shields and clipped the upper portion of his left arm.

His pained noise, along with the stress of being surrounded with no escape, must have triggered something in the Titan. For an instant, an indigo aura surrounded him, and then with a mighty roar that she could hear even in her far away position, he flung the aura away from himself until it encompassed all three of them with some room to spare. Her crow of pride at his first Super was cut short when the Titan immediately dropped to his knees.

Fearing that he'd overexerted himself and was unconscious on the battlefield, she glued her eye back to the scope and got a closer look. He was still upright sitting back on his heels, but he was visibly exhausted. It took him a moment to struggle back to his feet, and when he finally did, she released the breath she'd been holding since he'd hit the ground.

The other two on the team were taking a moment to regain their breath and reload their weapons. The Warlock moved to the titan's side and seemed to be checking him over, but the Titan gently shoved him away, pointing to the other's injured arm. The dome glowed strongly around the three companions, and Emily couldn't help but think of how handy that shield would be to have around.

Most of the Vex lay in sparking heaps of scrap metal, only a few Goblins left to put up any resistance. The Cabal on the other hand still numbered in the teens, and would take some work to bring down. Contemplating whether or not to pick off a few, she decided against it when the Hunter popped out from behind the Void shield and lined up a few headshots with her hand cannon.

Ducking back inside the shield, the Hunter reloaded while the Warlock and Titan stepped out from the protective dome, unloading on several different targets. Before long, the enemy's numbers were down by half, and then three quarters, until there were only a few left. The shield was waning, dissolving into thin air, forcing the Guardians out into the open again.

She watched from her perch until every last Cabal was destroyed down to the last Psion. The team reloaded once they'd felled their last foe, and the Warlock moved over to the smoking heap that once was a Vex Minotaur. She never saw what happened after that because she got the acute feeling she was being _watched_.

The feeling sent a shudder down her spine and made her cheeks burn behind the polarized visor of her helmet. It was _him_. In his newly repainted matte black and red armor, the Titan was looking right at her. Panicking, she did the only thing she could think to do; she froze. Lying on her belly in the sand, she hardly breathed for the full time he stared at her. After what felt like days he turned away, rejoining the other two where they stood debating something over the dead Minotaur.

Inhaling deeply, she picked herself up from her prone position and slid down the embankment on the far side of the hill from where the Guardians were. Had she just been caught? She was normally so good about keeping herself hidden. She supposed her echoing rifle shots hadn't exactly been _subtle_ , but for him to have _seen her_ was mildly panic inducing.

"I'm telling you," Ajax started. " _Talk_ to him Emily. How hard can it be? You've been following him for six months. I mean, I don't think I'd tell him that right away, but surely you can just give him a simple 'hello', right?"

At that moment, she didn't think she'd _ever_ be able to speak to him.

O.o.O.o.O

"Good work, Guardians," Cayde declared after they'd presented their findings. "The Vex have been on Mars for years now, but at least we know for sure now that they're not trying to gain a greater foothold on the planet."

Zavala nodded his approval towards the ragged group of warriors. There had been a heated discussion between the three team members while they'd flown back from Mars. The tension between them was palpable. Sam's injury wasn't helping the situation, and after his first Super, Vincent was simply worn out.

He still didn't quite understand what exactly had happened, and after Sam's third attempt at explaining he'd given up, stating that it was 'Space Magic' and that all Vincent had to do was learn how to put up one of those giant purple bubbles on command. He made it sound easy enough, but Vincent felt otherwise.

All he wanted was a shower, food, and sleep. Preferably for several days and sans nightmares, but at this point he'd take whatever he could get. Even after six months, there was still so much to learn, but he'd at least settled into a rhythm and didn't feel so dead after each mission. It had taken a while to build up his stamina, but considering he'd been _dead_ six months ago he figured he was doing pretty well.

After they were dismissed, Sam headed for the infirmary to have his arm stitched up, Mirena headed to wherever it was that Mirena went between missions, and Vincent headed back to his and Sam's room. He started shedding armor before he even made it to the stairway leading up to the dorms. Nodding a greeting to a fellow Titan he passed in the hallway, he put himself on autopilot on the way back to the room. Having trouble unlatching a clip on his pauldron, he didn't notice the small human coming down the hallway until it was too late. Bumping rather forcefully into the woman's slight frame, he pulled his gloves from between their holding spot between his teeth to apologize, but the words never had a chance to make it out.

"Watch it," the Hunter spat before glaring daggers at him and pushing by. He flattened himself against the wall, giving the woman plenty of leeway to move around him. He watched her as she barged by him and continued down the hallway. Eyes wide, he shook his head and continued on his way. Hunters were normally a little on the odd side anyway.

And speaking of Hunters… Thoughts drifting back to their earlier mission, his barely suppressed rage surfaced again. He'd known Mirena was a show off, but he hadn't thought it was so bad that she'd charge into battle on her own and risk _all_ their lives just so she could have her glory. Fuming, he finally undid the difficult clasp as he reached the door to his room. Stepping inside, he stacked his gear neatly before sliding it under his bunk. Dressed in his black mesh undersuit, he grabbed a towel and a change of clothes and headed for the showers, intent on letting the hot water wash the day's stress away.

O.o.O.o.O

Oh, Traveler there he was. _There he was!_ Right in front of her in the hallway, striding her way. His brow was furrowed, a few stray hairs that had shaken loose from his short ponytail framing his face as he struggled with a clasp on his shoulder. _Offer to help. Do something. Say something. ANYTHING._ But he was so close, and there was no time, and what could she even say?

Figuring a simple accidental collision would be a good conversation starter, she didn't alter her path and prepared herself for impact. How foolish she was to think that she could prepare for impact with a _Titan_. Slamming into him with more force than she intended, she bounced off of him and immediately regretted not going with 'hello.'

Pain bloomed above her left collarbone where an angled piece of armor caught her. Caught up in the moment and momentarily thrown off by just how much that _hurt_ , she said the first thing that came to mind. Normally callous and standoffish around other Guardians, she'd become accustomed to mouthing off scathing replies or thinly veiled threats. What came out of her mouth was _not_ what she'd intended to say. At all.

"Watch it," she spat venomously, speaking before he could even get his glove from between his teeth to say anything. Pushing past him hurriedly, she turned the corner and made a beeline for her room. Once inside, she closed the door and put her back against it. Her heart was pounding and she was so angry at herself she wanted to scream.

Sliding to the floor, she wrapped her arms around her knees and sat for a while, trying to calm herself down. Ajax materialized in front of her, looking as sympathetic as a little robot AI could. "What am I going to do, Ajax? I can't talk to other people. I don't know how to act, so now they all hate me, and now _he_ hates me. What do I do?"

Knowing there were no words that could comfort her, Ajax simply hovered nearby, hoping his presence was enough to soothe his upset companion.


	5. The First Day

**A/N: Here we go again! Just giving you all a head's up, I'm changing the rating to M just to make it easier for me in the future. As always, please drop a review and let me know what you think (even if you don't like it). I hope you enjoy it!**

"Mirena, slow down!" Sam's reprimand came over the comms, his exasperation evident by the tone of his voice. They'd been sent to the Cosmodrome to find the Riksis, Archon of the House of Devils, and destroy him. The team was currently fleeing for their lives amidst a hail of bullets and Mirena was determined to clear their path out single-handedly.

Sam and Vincent were covering her back, spraying bullets at the Fallen Dregs and Vandals hell bent on avenging their fallen leader as she recklessly charged ahead. Having felled most of the Fallen on their tails, Sam tapped Vincent on the shoulder, signaling him to move ahead. They were close on Mirena's heels now, flying through the different rooms of the complex as they ran for freedom.

Shots rang out just ahead, Mirena's hand cannon blasting in the small space. In the center of the room they'd just entered, a group of Dregs were doing their best to delay the Guardians as they fought their way to freedom. Mowing them down with their rifles, Sam and Vincent hung back, using the wall to cover their backs as they edged around for better angles on the Dreg. Mirena, as usual, was in the middle of the conflict, using bother her knife and guns and made quick work of the few enemies.

Charging ahead as soon as the last body hit the ground, she didn't realize she'd triggered a trip mine the Fallen had lain just inside the exit of the room. She hesitated for a split second before throwing herself through the doorway. With no time to think and an explosion eminent, Vincent grabbed Sam by the collar and shoved him out of the way, shielding him behind his own body.

In a blinding flash, the mine exploded, throwing both Guardians against the wall. Pain blooming on the right side of his ribcage, Vincent rolled off of the debris he'd landed on. The impact had knocked the air from his lungs, and he lay for a moment on his back, gasping for breath while a choir of bells rang in his ears. Sam was up and moving moments later, and from his place on the floor Vincent watched him as he went. Unable to hear anything yet, he watched Sam throw his hands and pace back and forth a few times before he finally stopped.

Placing a hand against the chest plate of Vincent's armor, Sam gave it a few hard slaps before moving his rough attentions to Vincent's helmet. After about the third slap, Vincent shoved him away with his left hand, struggling into a sitting position.

"-ng to KILL HER!" was the first thing Vincent heard when his ears stopped ringing. "Reckless, arrogant, STUPID Hunter!" He'd never seen Sam this mad. But it was true. Mirena _was_ reckless. And arrogant. Shaking off the pain, Vincent got to his feet and checked the door they had come running through, making sure no more Fallen were on their way. Satisfied that they were in the clear for a least a few minutes, Vincent moved to the other doorway and poked his head through.

Mirena was leaning against the wall with her head hanging low. Good. She at least felt _some_ remorse over her behavior. Her head turned towards him a second later but he couldn't see her face through the protective visor that shielded it. He gave her nothing. No reprimand over her behavior, no _it was just an accident_ sort of shrug. Going back into the room he gave Sam a few more seconds to rant.

"Time to go, Sam," he said when he thought enough time had passed. Sam nodded, staring at his feet, and then stalked out of the room. He walked past Mirena and didn't so much as look at her as he went. Silence prevailed throughout the rest of the mission. Ruthlessly and efficiently, they dealt with the remaining Fallen standing in their way until they finally stood beneath the bright midday sunlight.

Blink brought Sam's ship around, the black and gold _Birth of History_ swinging into view above them. Their Ghosts transmatted them into the ship and set course for the Tower. Holding his right arm tightly against his side, Vincent did his best to ignore the sharp pains that accompanied each breath he took. Evie could heal cuts and scrapes for him, but more serious wounds like broken bones and gunshot wounds were a bit more tricky, and required a visit to the Infirmary. As soon as they'd been debriefed, Vincent planned on dropping his gear and changing into some more comfortable clothes and then going to have the Doc look at his ribs.

Sam's stony silence was uncharacteristic, attesting to the fact that he was absolutely _livid_. Mirena had made a habit out of charging ahead, and both of her teammates had had enough of her making things infinitely more difficult by not following plans and just leaving them. As they arrived at the Tower, Blink expertly maneuvering the ship around to dock, Vincent knew that this was probably the last time Mirena would arrive at the hangar alongside them as their Hunter.

The thought left a bitter taste in his mouth. He didn't want things to change, but at the same time he _really_ didn't want to die again. They disembarked, and Sam took point as they made their way to the Hall of Guardians. Wading through the crowds, Vincent was careful not to touch any of the other Guardians for fear of jostling his injured ribs.

Sam led them down the stairs and straight up to the Vanguards, his anger rolling off of him in waves. Ikora seemed to notice his agitation, even with his helmet blocking any view of his face. Taking a deep breath, Sam broke the seals and pulled the helmet off, his indigo hair sticking out at all odd angles. Vincent lifted his arms to do the same, wincing at the pain that shout down his side at the movement. He powered through it and pulled the helmet off over his head, doing his best to control his face and not betray any emotion.

"We killed Riksis the Devil Archon," Sam said evenly. "There was quite a bit of resistance getting in _and_ out, but we managed it."

Zavala nodded his approval. "Go and rest, Guardians. Come back in the morning for details on your next mission."

Sam was gone before Vincent even realized they were dismissed. Mirena had gone to Cayde, and he'd pulled her into a secluded corner where they conversed in hushed tones. Figuring he wasn't needed, Vincent turned on his heel and made for his and Sam's shared room. After running into the rather volatile Hunter a few days ago, he'd stopped shedding armor on the way to the room lest he run into her, or anyone else, again.

Sam was already in the room, throwing his armor into a heap in one of the back corners. Standing in the doorway until Sam realized he wasn't alone anymore, Vincent watched him stomp about and mutter in a hushed voice. Clearing his throat, he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Why didn't you say something at the debriefing?" Vincent asked quietly. This was not the first time Sam had been thrown into a fit of rage over Mirena's foolishness. Sam looked from Vincent to the floor and sighed, deflating as he let go of his anger.

"I don't know. I guess I didn't want to call her out in front of the Vanguards. I'll go talk to Ikora in a little bit."

"I'll handle it," Vincent volunteered. "I have to go to the Infirmary anyway, I'll take care of it when I'm done there."

"Shit, are you okay?" Vincent nodded, pulling pieces of armor off as he made his way over to the bed. "I didn't even think to ask earlier, I was so mad. I'm sorry."

Vincent chuckled a bit before sucking in a pained breath. "It's alright. I'm fine. Probably just bruises but I figure I'll go get it checked out anyway."

Evie blinked into existence next to him. "Vincent, you have one broken rib and two others that are cracked. You know very well that it is _not_ just bruises."

He'd figured at least one was broken. Shrugging his left shoulder, he continued stripping his armor. When the last piece fell away, he stripped the top half of his mesh undersuit and looked in the small mirror that hung just above their small desk. Black and blue bruises stretched from just below his arm down to the bottom of his ribcage on his right side. Sam whistled at the sight before tossing Vincent a t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Gathering up his own change of clothes, he stopped on his way out the door.

"You sure you don't want me to take care of it? I can head there after my shower." Vincent shook his head.

"I got it. You just go… chill out for a while. Calm yourself down." Sam shrugged and then headed out the door. Looking down, Vincent sighed. Out of habit, one hand reached up and ran lightly over the massive scar that spanned across the lower part of his abdomen. The first time he'd seen it, he nearly lost his mind. With no memory of such an injury ever occurring and no way to know how he'd gotten such a massive scar, he'd quietly panicked for a few days. He'd come back with no other marks but this one, not one blemish except the scar that ran from just above his left hip to the bottom right side of his ribcage. And then realization had dawned on him.

His death. The scar was from the wound that had killed him. At the time, he'd wanted nothing more than to remember how he'd gotten it, how he'd died in that first, tragically short life. Now? Now he just wished he could forget. The memories had come back to him as dreams, haunting his sleep for weeks. He'd spent late nights talking with Sam, the only person in the Tower other than the Vanguards and the doctor that he felt he could trust enough to share with.

At first, Sam had been shell-shocked. It had been over a year since the last Guardian had been brought back from the dead, and now he had a resurrected as his _roommate_. It was overwhelming. As the months passed, he'd gotten used to the idea, and would often help Vincent remember where he was when he woke in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and begging for some light.

Pulling the shirt gingerly over his head, Vincent changed into the jeans and pulled on his more comfortable shoes and headed for the infirmary. Located through the massive stone archway up the short flight of stairs behind the bounty board, the infirmary was a quiet, peaceful place. He'd been here a few times for injuries Evie couldn't help him with, and enjoyed the Doctor's company immensely. Turning left and going through the white doors, he stepped into the well-lit room. Beds lined the walls, with only one near the back wall occupied.

"Siobhan?" he called quietly upon his arrival. The reply drifted back to him from one of the side storage rooms.

"Just a minute! Have a seat where you like."

Doing as she said, he chose one of the first few beds on the left and sat down as gently as possible. After some clinking and cursing, Siobhan strode into the room, her pale green hair tied into a tight bun atop her head. The Awoken woman had been raised in the City, and the Vanguards had recruited her from a clinic where she had garnered some renown as an accomplished healer.

"Ah, Vincent," she smiled. "I thought that was you. Now," she stepped close and looked him over with a critical eye. "What have you done to yourself this time?"

He chuckled a bit, trying not to breathe too deeply. Lifting his shirt on the right side as high as he could without causing too much pain, he showed her the growing bruise that spread over his ribcage. "Trip mine," he explained. "The blast threw me against the wall and I landed on something when I hit the floor."

Tsking through her teeth, Siobhan leaned in for a closer look. As she was poking and prodding, another Guardian limped into the room, her hand grasping the bleeding wound on her thigh. The cut ran from the outside of her thigh about halfway up and curved gently towards her kneecap. So absorbed by her injury, he didn't realize just who was bleeding on the floor of the infirmary. Just as he saw her face, the doctor jabbed a particularly painful spot and he yelped. Raising her eyebrows at him as she straightened, Siobhan looked as if she was about to give him the lecture of a lifetime when she noticed her new patient.

"Emily, what the hell happened?" She rushed over to the Hunter, who'd been staring at him ever since she noticed his presence in the room. Letting his shirt fall back into place, he prepared himself for the prickly attack he knew was coming from the Guardian who'd sat herself across from him. Her light brown hair was disheveled, her hazel eyes locked onto his as Siobhan bent over her wounded leg.

But she said nothing. Masking his surprise, he broke the stare, choosing instead to scrutinize his fingers where they lay in his lap. He could still feel her gaze on him, but he continued looking down at his hands. His eyes traced the faint scars mapping three of the fingers on his left hand from where he'd broken those four months prior. Thinking he could stun a Reaver Captain by punching it in the face so that he would have time to back off and reload had been one of the biggest mistakes he'd made yet.

Considering she'd bitten his head off over an accident a few days prior, he was unprepared by the soft way the Hunter spoke to Siobhan. "I fell. Goblins backed me off a cliff on Venus." The doctor looked up briefly from her examination before returning to her work. Seemingly satisfied with her findings, the doctor straightened.

"That's going to need stitches. Let me go get some supplies, I'll be right back." Stepping in the direction of the supply room, she called back over her shoulder, "Sit tight Vincent, I'll do what I can for you when I finish with her."

He didn't reply. She was _staring_ again. Meeting her gaze, he was surprised to find her face devoid of any malice and lacking the hateful glare he remembered so well. She just sat, staring at him, blood pulsing up between her fingers from the wound on her leg. It ran down her leg before dripping onto the floor where it formed a small puddle.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. He gave her a confused look and she elaborated. "About the other day. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I'm sorry."

He shook his head as if to say the apology wasn't necessary. And it wasn't. He had no idea what the woman had been through, and had tried to keep from holding her behavior against her. But he had decided to avoid her in the future to keep from repeating the same incident. Now, though, he couldn't help but wonder what had caused the behavior.

"It's fine," he replied. She looked away, seemingly debating something before she met his gaze again.

"I'm Emily." She seemed almost _shy_. Her three-hundred and sixty degree flip between attitudes was throwing him off.

"Vincent. Nice to meet you. Again," he added with a chuckle. Wincing and his ribs flared up, he wrapped his left arm around his middle, splaying his fingers over the most painful area to try and ease the discomfort.

"Broken ribs?" her soft voice called across the room towards him. He nodded. "I've been there before. It's not fun."

A loud fit of cursing came from the supply room, followed by some shuffling and then Siobhan reemerged and made her way to Emily's side. Placing all the necessary tools on the bed, the doctor took a pair of scissors and cut the fabric encasing the wounded leg. Laying it open to expose the wound, she then placed a handful of gauze over it and pressed firmly. "Hold this please, Emily, and keep pressure on it."

Doing as she was told, Emily placed her small hand over the wad of gauze. Her only indication that she was in pain was the deep furrow between her brows and the tightness around her mouth. Holding up a wicked looking needle, Siobhan threaded it with suture string and then placed it in alcohol to sterilize it. Next, she grabbed a syringe and lifted the corners of the gauze, injecting some of the liquid all around the wound.

"Alright, we'll give that some time to kick in and numb the wound site. Keep pressure on that bandage," she said before turning to Vincent. "Alright, let's have a look at this mess again."

Taking hold of the hem of his shirt, there was no time to protest before she lifted it and forced it into his hand. With everything on display, he turned his head to the side, hoping the Hunter was more occupied with her own wounds than his. Siobhan moved away to grab a white tube of something, leaving him exposed to the Hunter's gaze.

He took a quick glance at her, hoping beyond all hope that she hadn't seen the scar. From the stricken expression on her face, she had. He sighed, tensing as Siobhan squirted some of the tube's clear contents into her hand and began massaging it into the skin over his battered ribs. He'd learned rather quickly that the doctor wasn't one for coddling the Guardians under her care, and the pressure she applied to the area, as gentle as he was sure she was trying to be, was enough to steal his breath away. Closing his eyes against the pain, he fisted a hand in his hair and focused on his breathing, trying to calm and distract himself. When she finally pulled her hand away from his tender skin, he breathed a sigh of relief, quickly pulling his shirt back down. But it was too late; the damage was done.

Meeting her eyes for a moment as Siobhan washed her hands in a nearby sink, he was surprised to find her staring down at her thigh. "I can't feel my leg," she whispered. The puddle on the floor, despite the constant pressure she was applying, had grown a sizable amount. The gauze was nearly soaked through, and her hands were pale against the bloody fabric. At her quiet admission, Siobhan rushed back to the bed, dropping a cloth on the puddle of blood.

"Vincent, I need your help if you don't mind." He stood quickly from the bed, barely noticing that the pain had subsided substantially. Emily was swaying slightly where she sat on the bed. Taking the Hunter's hand away from the gauze, Siobhan replaced it a new wad and placed Vincent's hand over it instead. "All the pressure you can manage, big guy. We have to stop the bleeding."

Doing as he was told, he put a sizable portion of his considerable strength behind his arm, pressing hard against the wound. Emily's hissing breath brought his eyes back to her face. Her eyes were dull. "She's probably going to pass out before I can get this finished. Just be ready to catch her, okay? Try and keep her still."

Shooting a panicked look towards the doctor, Vincent tried to keep his cool. Removing the gauze, Vincent got a very close look at the wound. It wasn't a clean cut, and around the edges the flesh was scuffed and peeled back in places. Wondering how she'd managed to walk on the leg with that type of injury, he watched as Siobhan pierced her skin with the needle and began making small, neat stitches.

After a few minutes, Emily did indeed pass out. She collapsed forward against him, her forehead against his left shoulder. He braced his left arm against the bed behind her, supporting most of her weight. "There's no use laying her down, I'm almost done."

A few more stitches later, Siobhan stepped back and admired her work. Seemingly satisfied, she gestured for Vincent to lay the unconscious woman back against the bed. He held her leg up while the doctor cut away the rest of the fabric and bandaged the area. Upon completion, she smacked Vincent on the shoulder.

"Good job, big guy. If you weren't already a Guardian, I'd commandeer you to come work for me. Anyway, how do your ribs feel?" turning his attention to his own wounds, he happily realized that he could breathe easily and with no pain.

"Good," he said. "That stuff really works." Taking the tube, she placed it in his hand.

"Every six hours for the next five days. If you run out, come back and I'll give you some more. I'm going to have to pull you from active duty for about a week. You really need at least a month to fully heal, maybe two, but the Vanguards are already going to have a fit over a week. Just take it easy, okay? Doctor's orders."

He sighed. The Vanguards really weren't going to be happy about it, but what choice did they have? He couldn't fight like this. Conflicted about leaving the injured woman alone, a stern look from Siobhan finally forced him to leave. Heading for the Hall of Guardians, he prepared himself. Requesting that Mirena be assigned to another team was already going to be difficult. Following that up with the fact that he'd been pulled from duty for a week, he'd be lucky if he made it out alive.


	6. A Firmament in the Midst

**A/N: Woo, took me a while to get this finished. You can blame Iron Banner though. I needed that rank 5 for the book progress lol. Btw if anyone plays on ps4 and wants to add me as a friend hit me up and I'll give you my username and we can do some stuff. Heh. Didn't get any feedback on the last chapter but I'm assuming it's due to the rating change and the fact that if your story isnt rated K-T people have to go looking and change the filters. No biggie, but I do love hearing from you all, and I love advice and critiquing. So please please review. :) I hope you enjoy!**

"She's already applied for a transfer," Cayde informed Vincent as he stood before the Vanguards. "Just after you returned from your mission today, actually. Said you guys weren't a good fit."

Vincent couldn't agree more. Mirena and Sam were constantly at odds, their personalities clashing at every turn. Vincent had tried to mediate between the two, but eventually Mirena's continuously reckless behavior had given him enough grief as well. She would be happier with more like-minded Guardians than she ever would be with the two of them. He nodded, internally sighing with relief that Mirena had at least had the good sense to realize it was time for a change.

"As for your medical condition," Zavala started, "it will take some time to find a replacement Hunter for your team. A week to heal will give us plenty of time to scour up a Hunter with a temperament closer to yours and Sam's. Take the time to heal, Guardian, so that you can return to duty fit and ready for a fight."

Focusing back on the papers stacked on the table before him, Zavala effectively dismissed him. Relieved that he'd have a few days to heal and rest, Vincent was about to leave when an idea struck him. Asking Cayde for a moment of his time, they moved away from the table to speak more privately.

"I ran into a Hunter the other day, quite literally, and she nearly took my head off for it. But when I saw her again in the Infirmary tonight, she seemed totally different. Almost shy. She's just about your height, maybe a few inches shorter with brown hair and haz-"

"I know which hunter you're talking about," Cayde said, cutting him off. "If you're here to lodge a complaint about her behavior, get in line. She's pissed off just about every Guardian that's ever set foot in the Tower, but she's one of my best Hunters so she's not going anywhere."

Vincent shook his head. "I'm not here to complain, not at all. I'm actually here to find out a bit more about her. She sort of… passed out before I could really ask her about her change of heart."

"Hmm. Well, it's not really my place to give out any personal information," Cayde said resignedly. There was a gleam in his eye though, as if he knew something Vincent didn't. The look almost made Vincent turn tail and forget he ever mentioned the Hunter. "But, I can tell you that she's not very good with people so she just says things sometimes. Whatever comes to mind, really. Whether or not she actually _means_ all the nasty things that fly out of her mouth, well, that's for her to know."

"What team is she on?" Vincent asked.

"She's not on any team. Bad with people, remember?" Cayde flicked him on the forehead. "She runs solo ops for me, lone wolf type missions. Intel gathering, carrying out hits, that kind of stuff. It's all very secret and Hunter-y stuff, you wouldn't understand. Don't hurt your brain trying to comprehend, just go with it. Now," he crossed his arms. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Vincent said, letting the Hunter's teasing remarks roll off of him. "She seems different. I thought I'd ask the person who knows most about everything that goes on around here." He wasn't hiding his attempt at flattery at all. After learning how to navigate Cayde's unique personality, he'd quickly realized that compliments were the best way to win the Exo's cooperation.

"Talk to her," Cayde said after a moment's consideration. "She's like a wild animal though, you can't move too fast. Let her come to you. If she asks you a question, you've got her. But you have to keep everything open or she'll start to clam up on you."

Starting to think he was getting himself in over his head, Vincent asked one last question. "What happened to her to make her so wary?"

Cayde stood very still, a dark look crossing over his face. Vincent had never seen him like this before. "The answer to that question lies hidden deep, kid. _I_ don't even know what the hell happened to her. I may never know." He sighed a mechanical sounding sigh. "I just hope she can find someone she trusts enough to open up to someday."

Thanking him for his time and cooperation, Vincent left the Hall of Guardians, heading for the mess hall. Thoughts of the strange Hunter occupied his mind as he walked through the plaza and down the stairs into the northern part of the tower. He passed the Speaker's strange space, heading right through the black doors under the stone archway and into the cafeteria style area.

Standing in line to wait for his tray of tasteless mush, he didn't realize Sam was beside him in the line until the Warlock snapped his fingers in front of Vincent's face. Jerking out of his thoughts, he faced Sam, an exasperated expression plastered across his face. Sam was grinning, obviously in better spirits than he had been before. Shaking his head, Vincent moved forward with the line.

"So? How'd it go with the Vanguards?"

"Mirena filed for a transfer right after our debriefing."

"Wow. What a bitch. She left before we could kick her out! That takes the fun out of everything." Vincent chuckled at the full on pout Sam was displaying. With his predatory amber eyes, the expression was nowhere near convincing. When the Frame dishing out food plopped a generous helping of protein loaded paste onto his plate, Vincent thanked he robot and went to find a table.

Sitting with his back to the wall, Sam sat in the seat across from him. At this time of day, the mess was nearly empty, with most of the other Guardians off on missions during the day. It had only taken him about an hour to get patched up, assist with the Hunter's surgery, and have the Vanguards tell him that Mirena was no longer a member of the team, so there were still a few hours left until most of the Guardians returned for the night.

Forking a mouthful of the paste into his mouth, he tried not to gag at both the taste and the texture. It contained all the nutrients he needed to keep moving, so he'd suffer through the terrible flavor. Sam had never seemed to understand his aversion, claiming that the Tower's protein paste was the best he'd ever had. Vincent always tried to just get it down as quickly as he could and get it over with.

"What'd Siobhan have to say about your ribs?"

Vincent laughed. "You know her. She never says much about anything. But she gave me some numbing paste to rub on it every six hours. I also got to hold up an unconscious Hunter while she stitched up the gaping hole in her leg. And you'll never guess which Hunter it was."

Sam gaped at him. "Crazy Emily?" Vincent frowned. After telling Sam about his near-death experience with the woman, he had informed Vincent that the Hunter treated everyone that way whether the behavior was provoked or not, thus earning her the nickname. He hated it. Seeing Vincent's expression, Sam instantly sobered, apologizing.

"She's not crazy, Sam. She's just… _different_. She apologized for the other day and introduced herself before she passed out on me. It wasn't the unpleasant experience I was expecting when I saw her walk in. It was…civil. She seemed embarrassed about it almost. It was really strange."

"Is that why you were so lost in thought standing in line over there?" Vincent nodded. He'd had a lot on his mind lately, and the lack of sleep wasn't helping. He was beyond ready to just crawl in bed and pass out for as long as he could before the nightmares caught him in their grasp. With seven days to recover, he knew he'd at least be able to catch up on some sleep. And maybe, just maybe, start trying to tame the wild Hunter.

O.o.O.o.O

"Vince… Vincent! Wake up."

Sam's voice pulled him from deep slumber, and he started awake, gasping for breath. He'd been dreaming again, nightmares darker than the deepest black and mind-numbingly terrifying. Sam's interruption couldn't have been more timely. Vincent pulled the blanket up some, covering the black bruises mapping his right side.

"What is it, Sam?" Sam was smirking. Vincent's face fell. He had learned fairly quickly that a smirking Sam always meant trouble. He almost didn't want to know, but curiosity got the better of him. "Spit it out, will you?"

The smirk widened, and his eyes narrowed mischievously. Definitely _not_ good. "You have company, Vincent. Shall I invite the visitor in? I think I should." Before Vincent could even process the words and form a reply, Sam was turning to open the door. "Come in!" Sam said brightly, his lean form blocking the doorway for momentarily before he stepped aside.

Eyes on the floor and limping heavily, a very uncomfortable looking Hunter made her way into the small room. Sam gestured to the desk chair opposite the stacked beds, and she gingerly moved to it and lowered her weight until she was sitting in the cushioned chair, hands folded neatly in her lap. She glanced at Sam before focusing her eyes on her fingers.

Sitting up with his feet planted firmly on the floor, Vincent tried to keep as much of himself covered as he could. He knew she'd already seen the scar, but he still felt better with it hidden. It was an ugly reminder, and he'd rather not have any more attention drawn to it than necessary. Running a hand through his hair to push it back out of his face, he cleared his throat.

"Thank you," she blurted, as if she couldn't get the words out fast enough. She met his eyes, her hazel stare unwavering despite her nervous countenance. "Siobhan told me what you did, helping her stitch me up. I just wanted to say thank you."

Vincent's brow furrowed. Thank him? He'd barely done anything but stand there and let her lean on him. It wasn't as if the weighed much, so it wasn't difficult to hold her up for a spell. The doctor had done all the work. "You don't need to thank me," he stated. "I didn't really do much of anything." Sam snorted where he leaned against the door, arms crossed over his chest. Vincent shot him a glare and the Warlock did his best to smother his laughter.

Glancing between the two men, she seemed confused by Sam's obvious amusement. Vincent stood, turning his back to the nervous woman as nonchalantly but as quickly as he could. Keeping his right arm firmly at his side to minimize the discomfort of his battered ribs, he pilfered through his nearby stack of clothes in search of a shirt. Finding a hooded jacket and figuring it would do the job just as well as a t-shirt, he stuck his arms through the holes and prepared himself for the pain he knew was coming. Sucking in a deep breath, he did his best to get into the jacket as quickly and painlessly as possible. He was only somewhat successful.

Wincing at the burning sensation lifting his arm had caused, he pushed the sleeves of the jacket up to his elbows and resumed his sitting position on the side of the bed. He'd felt her eyes on him throughout the process, and he did his best to pretend like he hadn't noticed. She looked a little more relaxed now, but there was still a tautness in her muscles that spoke volumes of the tension she felt. "You really didn't need to come here and thank me. Anyone else would have done the same." Hoping his words would allow her to leave the room and find somewhere she could be more comfortable, he was mildly surprised when she didn't move.

Meeting his eyes again, but with a steely gaze this time, she pursed her pale lips before speaking. "No, they wouldn't have," she said quietly. "I should go," she said as she stood, using the chair and desk to help take the strain off her injured leg. As she moved towards the door, Sam reached out to help her, gently grasping her left arm just above her elbow. She stiffened at the contact and immediately shrugged his hand away, putting some distance between them. The fleeting look of fear on her face didn't escape Vincent's notice, but he kept quiet. _Like a wild animal, indeed._

Halfway out the doorway, she paused, turning back and fixing her gaze upon Vincent once again. "Thank you," she said again. She limped away down the hallway, but Vincent's voice stopped her in her tracks before she turned the corner.

"You're welcome," he called after her. She paused, giving him a strange look, and then she was gone. Closing the door, Vincent put his back flat against it, his shoulder blades pressing against the painted wood. He gave Sam a look out of the corner of his eye, brows raised.

"That was weird," Sam said, bewildered. "I guess she doesn't like being touched?"

"I really don't know, Sam." Sitting in the chair the Hunter had previously occupied, the Warlock bent his head thoughtfully. "Don't stress yourself too much over it. It may just be that not _all_ women swoon at the sight of you."

Sam chuckled, looking sheepish. Scratching the back of his head a few times, he gave Vincent a determined look. "I guess I'll just have to keep trying then, wont I?" Vincent shook his head, wondering why Cayde hadn't made a bid for the young Sam when he first arrived at the Tower fresh from training. He certainly seemed to have more Hunter qualities than he did any Warlock ones, but he supposed maybe the Vanguards had seen something in the young man that Vincent couldn't.

"Let's go get something to eat," Vincent suggested. "Hopefully the nutrient paste tastes a bit better than it has since I got here." Sam laughed before following his teammate, and friend, out the door.

O.o.O.o.O

 _The Authorities were coming. Those two idiots had gone off and made stupid comments-threats- and now came the admonition. His mother had fetched him from the woods where he'd been hunting, screaming about not having enough time, they were coming, he had to help get the children underground to safety._

 _Abandoning the hunt, he'd run home as fast as his legs would carry him. His father was ushering people to and fro, directing the flow of bodies like a stone directs the flow of a river. He tried not to notice the panicked expression his father's usually stern face wore, but there was no time for questions or disobedience._

 _They were_ coming _._

 _He grabbed Sybil, her tiny legs unable to keep up with the frenzied pace of the people around her. His mother was shouting at him to hurry, hurry,_ hurry. _There was no time. Taking one of the other younglings by the hand, he led them out of the house and to the storage shed, where he set Sybil down to uncover the trap door and open the way down into the bunker._

 _Ushering the gaggle of children down the steep stairs, he handed Sybil off to his younger sister, instructing her to keep the six year old close to her breast and to try and keep the little ones calm. His mother was hurrying across the open span of lawn between the main house and the shed, herding the remaining children towards him. He helped them down, and then his mother was pushing him, panic in her voice._

" _You have to go with them," she was saying. "You have to protect them! You're only children, they won't hurt you when they find you."_

 _He wanted to argue with her, to tell her that he was no longer a child, but a man grown, and that he could help fight if that's what it came down to. But she was pushing him, punching him, shoving him down the stairs. He could feel his own panic rising at her behavior. Still not fully understanding the situation, he wanted to ask questions. He wanted her to come down as well, even though it was a selfish desire. To have his mother close would be a reassurance for all the children, but even more so for him._

 _But she was lowering the trapdoor overhead, slowly pushing him further down the ladder, deeper into the earth. "Mum, please, tell me what's happening, come with me, please mum, please."_

 _He begged, hot tears threatening to spill onto his cheeks, but it was to no avail. She closed the door over his head, leaving an image burned into his mind. His mother's face, her expression terrified but full of love, framed by the midafternoon sunlight._


	7. And It Was So

**A/N: SO before we get started I have a few things. I finally got a job which means two things. 1, yay money. 2, less time for writing. I'm not entirely sure how this is going to affect my already non-existent update schedule, but it will definitely slow for a while before i can get into routine. I'll try to have another chapter out for you before I start Monday. Another thing, I had a guest reviewer kindly correct me on my usage of Vanguard/Vanguards. Thank you, guest reviewer, for bringing this to my attention. I knew something felt weird, but something feels even weirder about using Vanguard with no s for the plural form, so I googled it. Turns out the plural form of Vanguard is indeed Vanguards with an s. But thank you for making me double check lol. Anyway, to you lurking readers out there that leave hardly any trace of your passing, to those that add me/my story to your following list, and to those out there that take the time out of your busy schedules to leave me feedback in a review, GO YOU. I know you're there, I see you, and I thank you. Keep at it. You go glen coco. I hope you enjoy this chapter find time to drop me some comments! Thanks for being here. I wouldn't be doing this without you.**

 **Also, DISCLAIMER, because I haven't done one yet. So yeah. I don't own Destiny. But you already knew that.**

After a relentlessly boring three days, Cayde finally sent a summons to Ajax, requesting their presence. Eager to resume her daily missions, Emily did her best to hide the limp she still sported. Her leg still pained her, but it wasn't bad enough to make her want to stay at the Tower any longer to heal. It had been long enough as it was. Gingerly making her way down the steps, she headed towards Cayde. The other two Vanguards usually paid the other classes no mind, but today they were watching her out of the corners of their eyes. The weight of their gaze was uncomfortable, but she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders as she stopped before the lead Hunter.

"You summoned me?" she prompted. Cayde said nothing, watching her with his bright blue optical sensors. She shifted some of the weight off of her wounded leg, doing her best to look nonchalant as she did so. She didn't want Cayde to have any reason to suspect she wasn't mission ready. After what seemed like hours, he spoke.

"I'm putting you on a fire team," he said slowly, giving her plenty of time to soak in what he was saying, and what it meant for her. "I know you work best alone, but we're short on Hunters right now, and you need some experience working with other Guardians."

She covered her fear with anger. "What team?" Demanding anything from her superior wasn't normally in her nature, but she felt immensely betrayed and didn't care if she was being rude. "What _team_?!"

"They don't have a team name yet," Cayde said, holding his hands up, fingers splayed wide. She was fuming. Fists balled tightly at her sides, she paced back and forth in front of him, no longer bothering to hide her slight limp. "Just calm down, Emily. We both knew this was going to happen eventually, right? I told you from the start you wouldn't always be alone. It's time, Em."

How could he _do_ this? He promised he would take care of her, but he _lied_! He was throwing her to the wolves and he knew it. None of the other Guardians accepted her. No one could _possibly understand_ why she acted the way she did, why she pushed them all away. How could anyone have enough patience to deal with her? _Why why WHY?!_

"Easy, Emily," Cayde said, his voice soothing through the mechanical undertones. "Calm down. It's gonna be okay girl. I think this team is the best match for you. Just listen to me-"

"How COULD you?!" Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, and she did her best to hold them back. Her chest heaved with each breath she took, limbs shaking as she finally stopped her rabid pacing. She was throwing a temper tantrum, and she hated it, but he didn't understand, no one could understand. A single tear fell, tracing a blazing hot path down her cheek before falling from her chin and splashing to the floor.

"Emily!" Zavala's commanding, and angry, voice cut off her next words. "You have had your way long enough. You _will_ become a part of this team, and you _will_ find a way to get along with them. We have spent long hours deliberating whether or not this is the right move, and have come to the conclusion that it is. Now you can continue acting like a child, or you can act like a true Guardian. Make your choice."

Doing her best to regain control of the emotions that raged within her, she kept her mouth shut. Fixing bloodshot hazel eyes on Cayde, she dipped her head once in agreement to his wishes before she turned on her heel and strode from the room. Her anger masked any pain she felt from the wound on her thigh.

Entering the plaza on her way back to her dorm, she could feel the eyes of the other Guardians on her as she stormed past them. Anyone in her way quickly stepped out of her path, leaving the way clear all the way to her room. She paid no mind to any of them as she passed, and closed the door behind her. Ajax was alarmed by her outburst. He had seen her at her worst, had been her only Light in all the darkness for as long as she'd been alive, but he had never seen her this angry and afraid before. He agreed with the Vanguards, though. She needed socialization, she needed people she could count on, and that would count on her. She needed _friends_. As he watched her try to regain her composure despite her terror, he could only hope they'd picked the right team.

O.o.O.o.O

"Emily, wake up." Ajax was doing his best to whisper. After finally calming down, she'd drifted off into a fitful sleep. He knew she needed as much rest as she could get, but he had a message from Cayde's Ghost. Watching her struggle into wakefulness, he backed up to give her some space. Her eyes were puffy from the tears she'd shed and her hair was tousled from her restless sleep. Seeing her like this brought back memories from a time he wished he could forget.

Her rebirth had been painful to watch. She had woken screaming bloody murder, clawing at anything she could get her hands on. She'd been a wild creature with eyes filled with the horror of her past. Sometimes he thought that if he had known what she went through in her last life, if he'd only known the circumstances surrounding her death, perhaps he would have left her in the realm of the dead and never woken her at all.

It was a thought he never liked having. She eyed him blearily as she sat up in her bed, the sheets pooling around her waist. After yawning and blinking furiously for a moment, she gave him her full attention. He tried not to notice the dark stains on the sheets from where her leg had bled onto them, but he found his gaze fixed there as he informed her of the message he'd received.

"Cayde relayed a message to me through his Ghost. Would you like me to play it for you?"

Seeming to debate for a moment, he watched as her eyes narrowed. Biting the inside of her cheek, she looked at the little Ghost where he hovered before her. "Go ahead," she said, her voice scratchy with sleep.

Expanding slightly as he prepared to playback the transmission, he was secretly pleased at her acceptance of Cayde's message. She was angry, but she was still willing to give her mentor a chance to explain.

"Emily," Cayde's soft voice filled the room. "I'm sorry it happened this way, but we both knew this was coming. I can't keep giving you special treatment. You know I care about you, I just wish you trusted me enough to explain why you feel so strongly about remaining a one woman fighting force." Cayde sighed heavily and then paused for a moment. "Honestly, I think this will be good for you. I want to tell you who your new teammates are, but I'm withholding that information because I'm a jackass. Also because Zavala is pissed at you and he forbid me from telling you. You know normally I would tell you anyway just to spite him, but I think he might actually kill me if I do."

Despite the lingering feeling of betrayal, she chuckled. He always knew how to make her laugh. "Look," Cayde went on. "I know you probably don't care, but I am here for you. I'm sorry you took the news so hard, but if you wanna talk about it, you know where to find me. I hope you don't hate me for this. Regardless, I'll be watching my back for the next few days just to make sure I don't suddenly find a knife in it. Cayde out."

The transmission ended, and Ajax returned to his normal size. Emily couldn't help the small smile that stretched her lips. Cayde always knew how to make her feel better. Now that she'd had time to calm down, she felt like a complete and utter ass. He was right, and she knew it. It was time for her to grow up and join a team. Stuffing all her fears into a little box, she stuffed said box into the very back of her mind, labeled it with a "Do Not Open" sticker, and vowed to keep the box sealed closed. No matter what.

Her stomach grumbled, pulling her away from the box and back to reality. Putting her feet on the floor, she tested her weight on her injured leg, hissing at the pain that accompanied the movement. By the amount of blood staining her sheets, she surmised that she'd popped at least one stitch, probably more. Peeling back the bandage, Ajax supplied some light in the dim room, illuminating the messy wound.

Slipping into another state of mind, she pretended she was her old self, in her old life, and inspected the wound. Three sutures towards the center of the gash, where it curved toward her knee, had ripped loose. She'd have re-stitched it herself had she had the supplies. Heaving out a sigh, she gathered up some clothing, pulling a sweatshirt over her head. The pants were trickier, as she had to do her best not to cause any more pain than was unavoidable.

After a few choice curse words and some angry muttering, she was finally dressed. Pulling the hood of the sweatshirt up over her messy hair, she made her way to the Infirmary as stealthily as she could. Siobhan was checking the vitals of another Guardian when she came in, so she chose a bed and sat while she waited for the doctor to finish. The Warlock she was treating seemed to be in bad shape from the worried look on Siobhan's face as she worked.

Drowsy but unwilling to sleep again, Emily held her palm out for Ajax to rest on. With his slight weight nestled reassuringly in her palm, she brought the little AI close to her face, his sapphire eye never leaving hers. She hoped he wasn't disappointed in her for her childish behavior. He knew more about what had happened to her than anyone else alive, but she wasn't sure if it was enough for him to understanding why she acted the way she did.

Siobhan was making her way over, but Emily was unwilling to let her only friend go. She cradled him to her chest, hoping she could convey all of her feelings to him through that simple gesture. How thankful she was to have him, how much she loved him, how happy she was to call him friend. She held him close until the doctor was standing before her and then opened her fingers so he could zoom away.

"Your leg bothering you?" the gruff Awoken doctor asked.

"I pulled a few stitches loose earlier," Emily explained. Glancing around to be sure there was no one conscious nearby but the doctor, she slid from the table and pulled the waistband of her sweatpants down to her knees before maneuvering herself back into a sitting position on the table. Siobhan's brow furrowed as she peeled back the bandage and examined the wound.

"Good job, Emily. Nice clean tears. These will be easy to fix. Hold on while I get my things." Siobhan disappeared into a side room for a moment before reappearing a few seconds later. She placed her things next to Emily's leg and pulled out a pair of surgical scissors and gently cut the three offending sutures. Her eyes met Emily's briefly from under her brows before refocusing on the task at hand. "Shall I go and fetch another strapping Titan to hold you up should you pass out on me again?"

Emily snorted. The doctor placed the scissors aside and picked up a suture needle. Emily looked away over the doctor's head. She'd watched the process many times before, but it was one thing to see it happen to someone else and another to watch that wickedly curved needle pierce _your_ skin. Squeezing her eyes shut at the initial sting, she sent her mind somewhere else, anywhere else, to take her focus off the pain. She wondered who her new teammates would be. The thought made her anxious enough to distract her from the worst of the sharp pains the doctor was causing.

She could only hope the Guardians were new. The new ones had a higher chance of not knowing her vicious nature towards other people, unless the more experienced Guardians had already warned them about her. Sighing, she regretted not trying to stamp down her fear and be nice to her fellow warriors instead of alienating herself from them. But she would live with the consequences. She could only hope her new partners would forgive her for being so rude towards them. Whoever they were.

O.o.O.o.O

"Are you excited, Vince? Huh? We get a new Hunter today. You don't seem like you're excited. If you can't tell, I'm excited. Very much so, yes I am."

Vincent rolled his eyes as he buckled a pauldron in to place. Sam was most definitely excited. Vincent was more nervous than anything. He only hoped their Hunter was ready for the trials that faced them. In the week since his injury, the men had spent most of their time resting. Sam had been called away for a few hours one day as backup for another team's mission, but other than that they had been together the whole time. Vincent was ready to kill something.

Sam was a good person and a great fighter, but the Warlock had a sort of restless energy that prevented him from ever being truly _still._ Strapping a greave onto his left leg, Vincent winced at the soreness in his side. Sam was babbling on about something, but Vincent's mind was far away. Memories of his past life had plagued his dreams in the week he'd been inactive. One of the benefits of daily combat was that he was often so tired at night he simply slept. His dreams wandered, some extremely vivid, and some that simply fled with the morning light.

Having nothing to take his mind away from his past, he'd dreamt of it every night. And each night, Sam had woken with him and provided the solid comfort of companionship until Vincent's heart and mind calmed enough for him to attempt sleep again. Sam had never once complained. Sometimes, Vincent wondered what he'd done to receive such an understanding friend.

"Are you ready yet?" Sam asked, breaking Vincent away from his brooding. He fixed the shorter man with a patient look while he replied.

"You Warlocks only have to throw a robe on. Maybe some padding underneath." Vincent gestured down to his armor-clad body. "LOOK at how much shit I have to strap on. I'm slow. Just… another minute, please."

Sam was already on the move. Pacing back and forth, he brought a hand to his chin thoughtfully. Vincent took the time to enjoy a rare moment of silence while strapping on his right greave and then moving on to the rerebrace, vambrace, and gauntlet on his left arm. He took his time, assuring that everything was as it should be and there was no wear on any of the straps that might cause it to give way under the stress of battle.

He moved on to his right arm, fingers working with a practiced ease. It had taken him weeks to master donning his armor. If rushed, he could be fully suited in under two minutes. Today, he was taking his time. Sam was still pacing when he finished. Snatching his helmet from where it rested on top of the desk, he wedged it under his left arm. Snaking his right arm out, he snatched Sam to a standstill.

"What has you so on edge?" he inquired.

"I don't know. I've been with Mirena since I arrived at the Tower for active duty. The only change in partner I had was because our Titan joined a different team, and that was over a year ago. I guess I'm just nervous."

He shrugged. Vincent clapped him on the shoulder and told him not to worry as he guided the leaner man out the door and down the hallway. The plaza was nearly empty, with only a few Guardians checking wares with the various vendors. Removing his hand from Sam's shoulder, Vincent tugged at the collar of his polycarbonate weave undersuit. Truth be told, he was a little nervous as well.

There was no time for nervousness though as they made their way through the Hall of Guardians and towards the Vanguards. There was a hunter already there, her light brown hair pulled back into a tight bun. At the sound of their footsteps her head turned towards them, and her hazel eyes blazed. If Vincent had been wearing his helmet, he wouldn't have bothered trying to hide his grin. Sharing a glance with Cayde, he pushed Sam forward. Sam's mouth was still hanging open when Cayde started to speak.

"Alright, Guardians, lets spare this old bucket of bolts any griping and get this over with. Emily, this is Vincent, your new Titan teammate. And the little one there with his mouth open is Sam, the Warlock. He's a little special, so use small words and speak slowly when you talk to him. To get you started, we're sending you out on a patrol mission. Short, sweet, and to the point. Go to the Moon, kill some Hive and Fallen, and bring back any info that you find interesting. Anything you two want to add?" Cayde said to the other two.

Ikora spoke next. "I think you pretty well summed it up Cay-"

"Alright, well," Cayde interrupted the Warlock. "You have your orders. Get out there and kick some ass. But not each other's asses, okay? Kick Hive asses."

Ikora was glaring death at Cayde but he didn't seem to notice. Zavala never even looked up from his paperwork. Vincent turned to exit the room, dragging a still-gaping Sam behind him. Emily gave Cayde one last hard look, and then turned to follow the other two. When they were gone, Zavala finally broke his silence.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Cayde?"

The Hunter was silent. He stared after the trio long after they were gone before finally turning to give his response. "I have a feeling we'll find out in a few hours whether or not this was a good idea." With that, he resumed his work, scanning over intel his Hunters had brought back to him. He couldn't help but wonder whether or not he'd done the right thing. It couldn't hurt to try, though, right?


	8. The Evening and the Morning

**A/N: Wow! It took way longer than I thought it would to get this chapter out. Work has kept me busy, and my sister came down to visit, and laundry, and blah blah blah. BUT! I'm back. Terribly sorry for the wait, I hope this makes up for it. As always, please tell me that you think! REVIEWS ARE LIFE. So please please please please PLEASE leave one. Thanks in advance for all you lovely people that do. Enjoy!**

"You sure you're alright, big guy?"

It was the third time Sam had asked Vincent that question since they'd transmatted down from the ship. He was trying to relax. It was just a patrol mission, just general intel gathering. They didn't have to go down beneath the surface of the moon. He'd be fine as long as they stayed up where there was light. Regardless, he couldn't help the way his fist stayed clenched around the pistol grip of his rifle.

"Fine, Sam. Just fine." He glanced around, surveying their surroundings. Sam was three paces to his left, and Emily was six paces behind them both. Having barely spoken throughout the duration of the flight and the half hour they'd spent on the ground so far, Sam decided to try and engage Emily in conversation.

"So, Emily." He pivoted on his heel to walk backwards so he could face her as they moved. The only sign that she was even paying attention was the slight tilt of her head in his direction. It was hard to get a read on her mood without being able to see her face, but he continued anyway. "What's it like to be one of the few Hunters able to channel Void energy, hm?"

He continued walking backward while waiting for a reply. Vincent, while curious about her reply, was more focused on the fact that Sam was headed straight for a fist-sized rock and was definitely going to fall. He kept his mouth shut. After a few more paces backwards and still no reply from the strange Hunter, Sam's foot did indeed make contact with the rock, which sent him toppling over backwards with a loud shriek. Vincent was still laughing when Sam picked himself up and began swiping the moon dust from his robes.

"You could have warned me, Vince," Sam said with his voice full of mock anger. His tone only made Vincent laugh harder. Even Emily chuckled a bit. "I thought you were my friend."

Vincent straightened and patted the Warlock on the shoulder. "But that wouldn't have been as much fun." Shoving the larger man in a playful way, Sam picked his rifle up off the ground and resumed walking, this time facing forward and very aware of where he placed his feet. After another few minutes, Vincent felt himself relaxing more and more. His hands had stopped shaking and some of the tension had left the muscles in his shoulders. He'd almost forgotten Sam's question when Emily spoke from where she walked behind them.

"You know the rumors about me, Sam." Her voice held no hint of emotion. "You know they say the power of the Void drove me crazy, and that's why I act the way I do. You've been around long enough to know."

Sam was quiet for a few moments, thinking of a tactful way to say what was on his mind. "That's what they say, yes." He glanced back at her, but her eyes were fixed forward. They were walking the winding stretch between Archer's Line and Anchor of Light, and Sam wanted to get something out of her before they came upon any Fallen. "But I want to hear the truth. From you."

Vincent admired Sam's bravery. Having been warned by Cayde about the Hunter's wild nature, he'd never have asked her any personal questions. But that was Sam. He was willing to ask the tough questions to get the answers he sought. Vincent wanted to help the strange woman open up, but he didn't have half of Sam's natural charm and affinity for putting people at ease. Catching sight of movement at his 10 o'clock, he brought his rifle up and couched it against his shoulder.

Sam followed suit, snapping the muzzle of his rifle toward the direction Vincent gestured towards. Emily echoed their movements, her single-shot rifle butted against her right shoulder. All thoughts of conversation fled their minds as the fanned out and advanced slowly. Around the corner to their left, there was a low building. In front of them, there was a larger, circular building set up off the ground. Enemy signatures were popping up on all sides on his radar, Evie feeding their movements to his heads-up display.

Sam took the left flank, and Emily automatically moved to his right. He could see a few Dregs moving about just ahead, perhaps still unaware of the Guardians' presence in their territory. Moving forward slowly until they were out in the open at a crossroads, Vincent felt himself settle into combat mode. His breathing deepened, increasing blood flow as adrenaline flooded his system. It had taken some getting used to, these subconscious reactions to impending combat, but after his first few fire fights it had become second nature.

A sharp burst from Sam's rifle brought his attention to the fight. There were three Dregs atop the low building, and his radar alerted him to four more approaching from the right. This area was known to be heavily populated by the House of Exile, so he prepared himself for a long and difficult fight. Sam had mown down two of the dregs already, and with Vincent's help the third went down easily.

A sharp report from Emily's rifle, along with the dying screech of a Dreg, brought their attention to the other enemies surrounding them. Emily brought down another with a headshot and a hiss of escaping ether, leaving one each for Sam and Vincent. After the last Dreg fell, they swept forward, eyes constantly on the move and searching for any enemy movement. Sam ducked as a shot from a Wire Rifle whizzed past his head. Vincent took aim for the Vandal behind the gun but before he could fire Emily beat him to it, taking the Vandal down with two precise shots.

"Do you see any more, Evie?" Vincent asked his Ghost. He kept his rifle at the ready despite seeing nothing on the radar.

"I'm not detecting any other life signs in this area," her mechanical voice replied. Vincent was puzzled. He angled the muzzle of his rifle towards the ground and placed his finger outside the trigger guard. Brow furrowed and extremely puzzled by the lack of resistance, he turned to Sam.

"There are usually more Fallen here, right? Or am I just going mad?"

"No, no, you're right. Normally there are at least a dozen. And usually a Captain or Servitor leading them." Sam's confusion bled into his voice. "This is definitely not normal."

Emily stood quietly, hips cocked to one side. Sam was pacing, muttering to himself about possible Fallen migration and needing to speak with Ikora about the importance of understanding the enemy. Vincent gave him a few more seconds to ponder before snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Where to next, Sam? Since you're the leader of this team." Head snapping up, Sam ceased his restless pacing and focused his attention back on the mission at hand.

"Let's keep moving. Keep your head on a swivel and watch for any enemy signatures on your radar. They may be planning an ambush." With that, Sam took point and led them deeper into the area. They passed beneath the strange elevated structure, all the while searching for any signs of a larger Fallen presence. They'd been shrouded in silence as they moved, each one of them wrapped up in their own thoughts as they stepped over and around the few obstructions in their path. Sam nearly leapt out of his skin when Emily's soft voice carried over the team's comm channel.

"I'm not crazy," she said firmly. Vincent had almost forgotten about Sam's unanswered question from earlier. Calling them to a halt, Sam faced her full on. She stood defiantly beneath his scrutinizing gaze. With their faces covered there was no way to judge emotion other than body language. Emily was challenging him, daring Sam to tell her otherwise. Shoulders back and standing as tall as her small frame would allow, she was the picture of defiance. Sam stood relaxed, one hip cocked and his head slightly tilted. Vincent detected immense amusement coming from the Earth- born Awoken.

"I know," Sam stated after a moment. Vincent stood back, watching from the sidelines but prepared to jump in between them should an argument erupt. But nothing happened. Sam turned and resumed walking. After a tense moment, Emily just nodded and made to follow. Rolling his eyes behind the faceplate of his helmet, Vincent sighed. Hopefully, they could work their way past the walls of frigid silence the Hunter had erected around herself. At this rate, though, it would be years before she was comfortable enough to open up around them.

O.o.O.o.O

 _Time was beginning to lose its meaning. The second blast from above had taken out the power generators, leaving them in a suffocating darkness like nothing they'd ever experienced before. The shelter had held for the most part, but without light there was no way to properly assess the damage. He prayed it was only cosmetic and not structural, but the occasional creaking and groaning coming from the far left corner of the bunker screamed otherwise._

 _After the commotion had faded and he'd determined it was safe enough to leave the shelter, he'd felt his way through the inky blackness, searching for the stairway that would lead them up and out. Any hope he'd had turned to ash when he'd tried the door at the top of the stairs and couldn't lift it. Debris had fallen over the horizontal trapdoor, and he hadn't been able to lift it off. Panic had set in after the first few tries and he'd quickly dissolved into a frantic state, throwing himself up at the door as hard as he could. It didn't budge._

 _Amelia had found him shuddering in exhaustion on the first few steps that led up to the door. He hadn't been able to see her, but she'd wrapped one of his hands in both her smaller ones and sat with him until he'd regained his composure. The others were counting on him to get them through this. As the eldest, it was his responsibility to keep them calm and safe while they waited for help to arrive. If it ever came._

 _Hours had passed. Eventually days. There was no way to tell exactly how long it had been, so they ate when they were hungry and slept when they were tired. They had enough food and water for ten people to last six months, but with sixteen children to feed, their supplies would begin to dwindle before long. He refused to ration it. The children were frightened enough as it was, and adding an empty belly to the already devastating conditions would only make things worse._

 _He ate little and drank only enough to keep him alive. He could feel himself wasting away, but the children had to come first. It must have been at least five weeks they'd been down there when little Sybil developed a rattling cough. Dust and debris littered the floor, and the back left corner was no longer safe to occupy. They slept in piles on the floor, sharing body heat to stave off the damp chill in the air. He told the children to have hope and that help would come for them soon, but the older ones knew the truth._

 _They were going to die down there, trapped like rats in a cage._

 _Amelia found him one night off by himself, shivering and alone. Lowering herself to sit next to him, she wrapped a blanket around them and put her head on his shoulder, wrapping herself around him. He wished, as he often did now, that he'd run away with her like he'd been planning to. It was selfish, he knew, but with nothing in his future now but starving to death in the dark, his only solace was to fantasize about what could have been._

 _They'd have run away to America, and he'd have married her beside the sparkling ocean. The sunlight would have lit her blonde hair with a radiant shine, her dazzling smile blinding him as they said their vows. He'd have carried her over the threshold of their small cottage, and she'd have laughed her tinkling laugh as he set her down on the bed. He'd have kissed her, deeply and passionately, one hand buried deep in her soft hair. And he'd have made love to her, sighing her name as they became one._

 _It was the only thing that kept him alive. She fell asleep against him, her soft breath tickling the hairs on his neck. It was all he could do to keep the tears back. Sybil found them, calling to him softly in the darkness until her tiny toddler steps eventually brought her to them. She crawled into his lap, her small head resting gently against his sternum. Placing a hand over her soft curls, he fell into a fitful sleep and dreamt of the sun._

O.o.O.o.O

He woke to the sound of birds chirping and wonderful, blissful light. Opening his eyes, he stretched his muscles, groaning at the pleasure of getting actual sleep. As far as his dreams went, the one he'd just woken from was nothing. The sense of despair was a constant theme, but any time he didn't wake screaming, tangled in his sheets and drenched in sweat, was considered a good night. Sam was still snoring in the bunk above him, which told him it was not long after dawn.

If there was one thing Sam was, it was punctual. He woke at the same time each day, and fell asleep promptly at the same time each night. To Vincent, it was the strangest thing, but Sam had been that way all his life. Unless they were away on a mission, Sam kept a very strict schedule. It was slightly maddening.

Rolling onto his back to take some of the pressure off of his still-healing ribs, he stared at the bunk above him, not really seeing what was in front of him. Most days he wished he could forget his previous life. But after a dream like he'd had last night, he wished he could remember more. More about his parents, more about what had caused the events that led to his eventual death. More about Amelia. He'd loved her, he knew. Being unable to remember anything but their final moments together was a special kind of torture. What had she been like, before they'd been trapped together with nothing but each other to comfort them?

But there was no use wondering. She was long dead, resting peacefully somewhere under the sun, he hoped. And he had a new mission. A new destiny. He sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, placing his feet flat on the floor. There was no use pining over old memories of a dead life. Standing straight, he grabbed a pair of jeans and pulled them on. Sam was still snoring and wasn't going to be up for at least twenty more minutes. Pulling a shirt on over his head, he resigned himself to a tasteless, lonely breakfast.

He made his way to the plaza, returning nods and friendly smiles as best he could at the early hour. The sun had barely broken the horizon and he took a few quiet moments to watch the sky as it woke, changing from a sleepy navy blue and transforming to a vibrant pinkish-red, to orange, and eventually a cloudy but bright blue. He was so absorbed by the changing colors of the waking sky he didn't feel her presence approaching until she was standing right beside him. Goosepimples broke out across his arm as her shoulder brushed lightly against it. He didn't look at her, didn't speak as she stood next to him. A wild animal, Cayde had said. Let her come to you.

And come she had.

"Good morning," she said, her voice breaking the comfortable silence. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was dressed in her usual hooded jacket and jeans, with her golden brown hair pulled back into a loose ponytail. She met his eyes, a peaceful expression on her face.

"Morning," he replied. His voice was still gravelly with sleep, but she didn't seem to notice. She looked as if she'd been up for some time already, and was ready for whatever the day brought. He hadn't seen her since their debriefing yesterday with the Vanguards. He and Sam had returned to their room to change and shower before dinner, but she'd vanished into thin air. "You hungry?"

His question was met with a quizzical stare, to which he replied with a shrug before he turned away and headed for the mess hall. She followed him, staying roughly three feet behind him as he made his way across the Plaza. There were only a few other Guardians up and about at this hour, and some of them gave them curious looks as they passed by. He paid them no mind, but he could practically feel her discomfort as she followed behind him. He knew she'd gained some reputation around the Tower for not playing well with others, but she'd done just fine yesterday on their trial mission. Sam had even commented later that night about how she'd known, for the most part, where she was needed and how to work around other Guardians in the field. The strange thing was that she always stayed behind them and kept a measurable distance between herself and the two men. He'd written it off as a quirk of her personality and moved on.

Entering the mess hall, he grabbed a small tray and moved towards the nearest Frame serving the mush they called food. She stuck close behind him, keeping her back towards the room and the Guardians that occupied it. There were maybe twenty strewn about, talking and laughing in small groups around the tables. Holding his tray out so the Frame could scoop the white colored goop onto it, he peeked over his shoulder at her.

She was obviously uncomfortable, but kept her expression studiously neutral. He waited until the Frame had served her before moving away to an empty table in the corner. He sat with his back facing the wall, leaving her the chair facing him. He hoped it would make her feel more at ease to keep her back toward the others. She sat in the offered chair and sent him a grateful look before tucking into her breakfast. He ate a few mouthfuls of the strangely flavored paste and then put his spoon down and leaned back in his chair.

He was at least a foot and a half taller than her, and the weight of his gaze was quite substantial. Glancing up at him from under her lashes, she took in the firm set of his jaw and the very serious expression he wore. Knowing a question was coming, she shoveled another spoonful of the protein paste into her mouth and waited. She was surprised at his restraint, swallowing and taking another mouthful of the food. But still he was silent. With another Guardian, she would have lashed out, shouting at him to ask his damn question already, but this was Vincent. He was patient, and he was gentle, and she would wait as long as he wanted.

"You did well yesterday," he stated. Not a question, which surprised her, but the fact that he'd praised her shocked her even more. She swallowed her last mouthful and set her spoon down on the now empty tray. "For someone that hasn't worked on a team, you knew where you were supposed to be and when. You've got a natural instinct for this, I think."

Wide eyed, she stared at him. He returned her gaze calmly, his honey brown eyes locked onto hers. Her anxiety melted away, and she no longer worried about whether or not the other Guardians were watching her. "I only have one thing to recommend," he went on. "I don't know what happened to make you so wary of other Guardians, but you're part of our team now. You have to trust Sam and me to watch your back and take care of you, just like we trust you to do the same for us." She was silent. Trust? It had been so long since she'd trusted anyone other than Cayde. Could she bring herself to turn her back on the fears that had become ingrained within her?

He was silent for a while, but his gaze never left hers. Their eyes were still locked when Sam approached with a tray of his own and plopped down in the chair next to Vincent.

"You guys are up early," Sam said, yawning. "Eat up, Vince, you have to keep your strength up." Vincent turned to Sam, finally freeing her from the weight of his stare. "The Vanguards are sending us out again this afternoon. Back to the Moon to explore the area around the Hellmouth to see if there are less Fallen occupying that area as well." He shoveled a few spoonfulls into his mouth, eating like he hadn't seen food in days. Vincent returned to his own tray and ate what was left. The three of them stood and handed their trays to the cleaning Frame before making their way out of the mess hall and into the sunlight.

"Alright, let's get geared up and meet back here in twenty. Vince, we'll take your ship to test that new stealth drive and make sure it's working right. You never know when we might need it." With that, they all headed back to the dorms. Sam donned his Warlock robes while Vincent began the laborious task of struggling into his mesh undersuit. Halfway through the task, Emily entered the room after three short taps on the closed door.

Vincent had the bottom half of his suit on already and most of his leg armor in place, but was struggling to pull the tight fitting black fabric over his head when she barged in. The bruises on his ribcage had faded to ugly green and yellow, but the bones underneath the mottled flesh were still healing, making it painful to pull the suit over his head and arms. Turning his back to her to try and hide the scar on his abdomen, he gritted his teeth and yanked the top half of the suit down to cover him. She'd already seen the scar before, but it was still something he preferred to keep hidden.

He sucked in a breath as sharp pain spiked down his ribcage, watching white lights dance on the backs of his closed eyelids. After the pain subsided, he opened his eyes and grabbed the closest piece of armor. Pulling the breastplate on over his head, he seated it in place over his chest and began snapping the clips that held the two pieces together. Turning back towards Sam and Emily, he studiously avoided her eyes as he continued to piece his armor in place.

"I know you said we would meet back in the Plaza, but I got done early. I'm sorry." Emily stood by the door, staring at the tips of her boots. The hood of her cloak was down and her helmet was stashed beneath one arm. She wished she'd put it on before she entered the room so that her pink cheeks would be hidden from their sight, but there was no help for it now. In her previous life, she'd seen plenty of half-naked men. It hadn't bothered her then, so why was she blushing now?

"It's okay. It's probably easier to meet here anyway. I'm sure the courtyard is swarming now." Sam pulled his boots on and laced them up, tying the strings in a neat knot when he was finished. "Hurry up, Vince, you're killing me! So slow."

"We've been over this before, mate. I have way more armour than you do, so piss off. Besides, I'm almost done." Raising her eyes from the floor, Emily saw that this was true. He placed a vambrace on his left forearm and pulled the straps tight. All that was left was the armored gloves, which he pulled on while shooting Sam a glare. Sam just chuckled and grabbed his winged helmet.

"Let's go, team!" he said cheerfully. Vincent sighed loudly and followed his friend through the door. Emily found herself smiling at their antics, her earlier embarrassment forgotten. Maybe being on a team wouldn't be so terrible after all, she thought.


	9. The Waters Under the Heaven

**A/N: Okay so I've been pretty busy these past few weeks between work and other stuff. My brother has been home on leave so we went to an airshow one weekend and then we went camping this past weekend and i've been housesitting for a friend and just ugh. Long story short, I'm sorry this chapter sucks. I try to write them all in one go and come back and edit later so it doesn't feel all chunky but i just couldn't focus or couldn't find time. SO this chapter kinda sucks in my opinion. Honestly i didn't even edit it but I'm struggling to keep my eyes open just to get this finished and get it out there. So yeah. Try and enjoy this and please drop a review. Not gonna lie it really does make me get chapters out faster when people leave reviews. Thanks for reading!**

"Guardians," Zavala's urgent voice broke over the comms. They'd been patrolling the area around the Hellmouth for nearly an hour in search of the Fallen that normally resided in the area when Blink had informed them that the Titan Vanguard was hailing them. "We have an urgent mission for you. Head to the Valley of the Kings on Mars. More information will be supplied when we get confirmation of boots on the ground. Zavala out."

Evie immediately brought Vincent's ship, the _Vienna Singer_ , around to pick them all up. Once safely situated in their seats, the little Ghost took them into orbit and then on to warp space. Things had been quiet between them since they'd left the Tower. For Vincent, the silence wasn't awkward or uncomfortable, but he knew Sam was probably desperate for some conversation. Deciding to close his eyes for a bit while they cruised along toward Mars, he smirked when Sam broke and finally struck up a conversation.

"I wonder what's going on? The Vanguards hardly ever call a team away from a mission unless it's an emergency. And on Mars, too. I hate Mars," he huffed. Vincent didn't have to open his eyes to know that Sam was probably pouting. After every mission that had taken them to the red planet, Sam had vowed it was the last time he'd go there. He couldn't stand the heat, the sand in his boots drove him mad, and the Cabal were a bunch of idiots for thinking the planet was worth anything. Vincent on the other hand had never minded going to Mars. It was bright and sunny all the time, and the heat that seeped into his bones helped shake off the chill his nightmares often left behind.

"You're not the only one," Emily seconded from where she was seated behind and to the right of Vincent's chair. "The sand gets _everywhere._ " Her statement sparked a discussion between her and Sam about all the terrible things the planet offered. Vincent was just glad to hear her talking. After their conversation over breakfast, he'd hoped she would open up a bit more. He drifted while they debated which qualities were the absolute worst, until she directed a question at him.

"What about you, Vincent? What do you dislike most about Mars?" Cayde's voice drifted back to him. _If she asks you a question, you've got her._ He smirked in satisfaction.

"Actually, I quite like Mars." He glanced over his shoulder at her. Brows raised in disbelief, her hazel eyes bored into his. "If I had to pick one thing I didn't like about it, I'd agree with you about the sand. I wear a skin-tight suit under my armour and it _still_ gets everywhere. But other than that, I rather enjoy our trips there."

From his left, Sam snorted. "You're such a weirdo, Vince. I'm pretty sure you're the only Guardian _ever_ to admit they like Mars. Everyone I've ever talked to about it hates the place." There were a few beats of silence before Emily spoke up again.

"Well if it isn't Mars, what is your least favorite place to go to?"

"My least favourite…." Pretending to muse over the question for the while, he sat, staring out at the vast expanse of space as it whizzed by the window. As a child, he'd dreamed of going to space. But those dreams had quickly turned to fear when the Traveler was discovered. If there was something like that out in space, what _else_ lurked out in the black?

"My least favourite is the moon." Sam already knew this. It wasn't so bad to stay up on the surface, but the one time their mission had taken them down into the dark depths, it had been very hard for him to stay calm. Sam, knowing his intense fear of the dark, had helped him through it, but it was not a process he wanted to repeat. Ever.

Emily hmmed in the backseat, and it seemed the conversation was over. Knowing that it wouldn't be long before they broke out of warp and entered the atmosphere, Vincent did his best to ready himself for what lay ahead. He checked his gear again to make sure everything was still in tip top shape, and came away satisfied. Behind him, Sam seemed to be doing the same. Emily sat still as stone, already as prepared as she could be.

They hurtled out of warp, the ship tilting forward hard as it slowed to normal speed. Evie steered the jump ship toward the Valley of the Kings, bringing it as close to the surface as she could before the Guardians were transmatted down to the swirling sand. Moving toward cover, Sam hailed Zavala over the appropriate channel.

"Commander Zavala, this is fire team Astraeus." He spoke with as much authority as he could muster. Behind the visor of his helmet, Vincent was chuckling. It was odd to see Sam serious about anything, but from time to time he would slip into what Vincent called his "team leader mode." The one-hundred eighty degree flip in character never failed to be amusing. "We've reached the rendezvous point and are awaiting further instructions."

"Astraeus," Zavala began. "This mission is top priority. Fire team Epsilon was unable to complete their task due to some significant injuries, so we've passed it on to you." _Epsilon_ wasn't able to complete this mission? Vincent was surprised, and suddenly very worried. Epsilon was one of the best teams the Guardians could boast. If they'd been injured trying to complete their mission, how could the Vanguards expect Astraeus to finish it?

Cayde's voice broke over the comms, taking the place of Zavala's. "Most of the dirty work has already been done, so all we need you to do is head over toward the giant glowing portal I'm sure you've noticed by now and go through." All three heads swiveled around, searching for the portal Cayde mentioned. Seeing it, Sam's jaw dropped.

"That's a Vex portal, Cayde." Sam's voice dripped with skepticism.

"Yes it is! Very good observation, Sam. Now. When you get through the portal, you'll be in the Black Garden. We've been led to believe that there is some sort of dark ritual taking place inside that is draining the Traveler's Light. That's where you come in."

Sam was shaking his head. "I thought the Black Garden was a myth," he said. Pacing back and forth and wringing his hands, he was the picture of nervousness. Emily was very still, but seemed calm.

"It's real, Sam." Ikora's voice was gentle. "We need you to destroy it. Frankly, you're the best team we have for the job right now. Also, we don't know if or when it will close, so we may not have another shot at this."

"Get in there, kill the ritual, and save what's left of Humanity, Sam," Cayde chuckled. "Then you can come home and pull all the ladies when you tell them how you did it."

"Cayde," Zavala reprimanded. "Astraeus, get moving. Keep in touch and report in with any useful information. Vanguards out."

The comm line crackled and then fell silent. Sam stopped his pacing and faced the other two members of his team. Vincent was confused, but held his tongue. Questions could wait till later. Emily cocked a hip, rifle resting on her right shoulder. Her dusky blue and vibrant purple armor stuck out against the rusty red of the sand. Her black cloak, torn and frayed around the edges, billowed around her in the slight breeze, and the action looked very familiar to Vincent. Shaking off the feeling of déjà vu, he started walking towards the portal.

The others fell in step behind him, and with about a mile to walk before reaching the glowing vertical disk, they trudged across the sand in silence. Halfway to their destination, Emily piped up. "What's the Black Garden, Sam? I've never heard of it before."

Neither had Vincent, but he assumed that was to be expected since he'd only woken six months ago. Sam took a few more steps in silence before answering. "It's another dimension the Vex occupy. I thought it was a myth, because only one person has ever been there. Or so the stories say. We don't really know much about it. But if it's true about the ritual, we have to stop it."

The Ghosts were collectively worried. Going in practically blind was never an ideal situation. Sharing streams of data instantaneously between themselves, the vowed to each other that they would work harder than they ever had before to keep their Guardians safe. There were too many unknowns, too many variables they couldn't account for, and each Ghost was gathering what information they could about this Garden.

"I _don't_ think this will be an easy task," Ajax said from where he hovered nervously beside Emily at the back of the pack. Vincent kept trudging. Easy was a word he'd said goodbye to almost as soon as he'd woken up in this strange new world.

O.o.O.o.O

Still nauseous from the gut-wrenching, rip-your-stomach-right-out-of-you experience the Vex portal had left behind, Vincent was doing his best not to blow chow all over the inside of his helmet. Transmatting was a walk in the park compared to the portal. There wasn't much time to dwell on the swimmy feeling in his stomach though. They'd entered the Black Garden, and the feeling of impending doom weighed heavily upon them all. Sam was visibly tense, his shoulders held taught as he moved. Emily was quiet, as was usual.

They moved slowly through the maze-like beauty of the Garden, watching closely for any signs of enemy movement. But there was nothing. It was eerily quiet, and would have been peaceful if not for the constant feeling that something just wasn't right. The sky was dark and frigid, and the air was thick and still. Head spinning, Vincent did his best to concentrate on his surroundings.

Further in, a few Harpies challenged the three Guardians, but were disposed of fairly quickly. Passing by a group of statues, Vincent eyed them closely. The statues were so incredibly detailed that he thought the stone Goblin would move at any second. But they didn't. Heeding the feeling that they were being watched, Vincent was just about to warn Sam when all Hell broke loose.

Six of the motionless Goblins stepped out, taking aim and the intruders as they passed. Under a hail of enemy projectiles, the Guardians ran for whatever cover they could find. Breathing hard, adrenaline pumping, Sam leaned out from behind the pillar he had ducked behind. Six Goblins, two Hobgoblins, and a Minotaur had shown up as well. Fantastic. He tossed a grenade, managing to land it in the center of a group the Vex warriors, before pulling himself back behind the sturdy protection of the stone pillar. Vincent was off somewhere to his left, and he had no idea where Emily had disappeared to.

"Vince, we need to take them out before they flank us. You ready for this?" A thunderous sigh met him over the comms. Giving the Titan a moment to gather himself, he peeked back out around the corner. The Minotaur was advancing quickly now, striding towards Sam with murderous intent. Vincent took this moment to burst onto the scene, drawing fire from most of the others and giving Sam space to retreat from the giant robot that was bound and determined to stomp the living daylight out of the indigo haired Awoken.

Swapping his rifle for his shotgun, he took aim at the Minotaur as it advanced. Squeezing the trigger, he couldn't help the childish delight that came with blowing a massive hole in the robot. Despite the hole, the Minotaur charged on. Sam ejected the spent shell from the gun, backing up as quickly as he could without falling down. Firing again, he continued backwards until his back met a wall. Just before the Minotaur reached him, a rifle shot impacted the side of its head.

Emily had reappeared just in time, and drilled round after round into the giant, distracting it until Sam could get a safe distance away. Sparks flew from the beast, some sort of viscous liquid leaking from its gaping wounds. Knowing Emily had the Minotaur handled, Sam circled back around to aid Vincent in finishing off what was left of the others. Firing from the hip, he blasted a hole in the middle of an unsuspecting Hobgoblin before turning to the last Goblin and finishing it off.

Standing surrounded by heaps of sparking metal, Sam checked to make sure Vincent was alright. Getting a silent thumbs-up from the larger man, he spun to see how Emily was faring. Having dropped the Minotaur, she was picking her way carefully around the debris to get back to them. Willing his breathing to slow, Sam did a cursory check for any sign of injury on either of his teammates. Vincent seemed to have fared well despite having to do most of the work himself. Emily was favoring her newly healed leg but was doing her best not to let on that she was in any pain.

"How bad is it?" he asked her.

"I'm fine," she said. "Bumped it trying to get to cover. I'm good to go." Taking her word for it, Sam took point, leading them deeper into the Garden. There were a few more firefights on the way to their destination, but they dealt with their enemies quickly and proficiently. As they got further in, the air seemed to get thicker. The Darkness was almost palpable, as if it was wrapping itself around the Guardians and doing it's very best to smother their Light.

Going in blind, Sam had no idea what they were even looking for. But after walking for what could have been a few hours or a few days, they came upon an opening that looked down over a half-moon shaped courtyard. At the center, there was a giant amorphous blob that undulated in some unseen current. Three statues stood around it with upraised arms, and a smattering of strangely old looking Goblins knelt around it as well. Figuring this must have been what they were here to destroy, Sam stepped onto the ledge overlooking the area.

At the first sign of movement, the Goblins woke from their trance like meditation and turned to assess the intruders. Moss dangled from their limbs, and it swayed in the moderate wind that whipped around the chamber. Red eyes lit up for the first time in Traveler only knew how long, and Sam got the distinct feeling that his team was in over their heads. The blob flashed with what looked like lightening, and several bolts of it struck out towards the nearest statue. The stone absorbed the energy, and right before their eyes turned into the biggest Minotaur any of them had ever seen. Unable to sum up what he was feeling adequately, Sam said the only thing he could think to say.

"Oh, fuck me."

O.o.O.o.O

"Shit, Sam! There's another on at your 8. Watch it Emily, you've got three on you. Fucking shit, Sam, just go after the big one, I'll watch your back."

If Vincent's mother was still alive and could hear the language her son was currently using, he was sure she'd have skinned him alive and then made him tan his own hide. Having taken down two of the giants already, Vincent was just doing his best to keep his team mates alive. Sam was focusing on bringing down the last Mind, Emily was fighting hard to keep the other Vex away from Sam so he could do his job, and Vincent was watching both of their backs to ensure nothing snuck up on either of them.

Having already used his Super to give them a moments respite to catch their breath and reload, Vincent was exhausted, hungry, and pissed. His shields were constantly depleted and they were running out of places to take cover behind to let them recharge. Emily was limping hard on her reinjured leg, Sam had taken a glancing blow off his helmet and surely had a massive headache, and to top it all off, they were running low on ammo.

Out of the corner of his eye, Vincent saw the blue flicker of Emily's shields as they died. In the distance behind her, a Hobgoblin was taking aim. Without thinking, he moved, sprinting full speed to cover the five metre span that stretched between them. With her back to the Hobgoblin and her shields down, the shot from the line rifle it wielded would tear through what little armor she wore with ease. Time slowed around him as he ran, and all he could focus on was getting to her in time. Just as the Hobgoblin fired, he leapt stretching out as far as he could and trying to shield her body with his own.

Along with the white-hot agony of the projectile ripping into the flesh of his left side, time returned to normal. He landed heavily, all the breath knocked out of him on impact. Compartmentalizing as best he could, he shoved the pain away and focused on getting his breath back.

"Em, your six. Kill that fucking thing for me, please," he ground out around his gritted teeth. Whipping around quickly and finding the target he'd tagged for her, she shot the Hobgoblin down from his perch.

"Sam," she called. "Vincent's hit."

"I'm fine," Vincent reassured his friend. "Just kill that thing so we can go home."

Pulling himself to his feet, he couched his rifle against his shoulder once more and helped Sam whittle away at the behemoth protecting the Heart. Swapping to his Fusion rifle, he put round after round on target, cursing internally all the while. Emily was covering their backs, giving them plenty of time and space to work. Seemingly from thin air, Sam produced a rocket launcher and popped a cartridge into the side.

"Fucking hell, Sam, you've had that monster the whole time and NOW you're going to use it?!"

"I had to wait for the right time, buddy!" Raising the launcher and resting it on his shoulder, he aimed quickly and pulled the trigger. The impact of the rocket knocked the giant off balance, staggering it. Giving it no time to recover, Sam reloaded and fired again. This time, the Mind crumbled, collapsing into dust on the ground. In the air, the shimmering orb of Darkness convulsed, writhing like a wounded animal before exploding in a blinding flash of white light.

"We're back!" Blink cried. Crimson flower petals floated through the air, drifting about aimlessly on the calm air. There was no trace of the Orb, nor of any Vex. Vincent sighed in relief. He was _tired._ Wanting nothing more than to go back to the Tower and collapse into his bed, he made to move towards where Sam and Emily had gathered, but his body had other plans.

Light-headed, he collapsed to his knees, the pain of his injury slamming into him full-force. Pressing a hand to the jagged hole that the Hobgoblin's shot had ripped through his left side, his fingers came away coated in blood. His vision swam dizzyingly for a few moments, and the next thing he knew, Sam was at his side. "Fuck," he whispered. Emily had limped over and was kneeling at his side as well.

"Evie, bring the ship around. We have to get him to the infirmary." Worry permeated Sam's voice despite how hard he was trying to stay calm. What seemed like gallons of blood had seeping out onto the ground and already stained most of the left side of Vincent's armor from just above his hip all the way down past his knee. The _Vienna Singer_ swooped in and hovered overhead, and before they knew it the Ghosts had them on board and were pushing the engines toward the Tower as fast as they would go.


	10. The Dry Land

**A/N: Hello all! Doing my best to get back on track with updating. My brother left the other day to go back to HI so I have a bit more free time (but I'm sad cuz my bubby left me again). Anywho, not my best writing here but that's not really saying much LOL! Hope you guys still manage to enjoy it though. It does get a bit darker towards the end there, and I'm hoping it gives you a little more insight as to why Vince is the way he is. Hopefully. PLEASE REVIEW I'M DYING FOR SOME FEEDBACK.**

 **Also, if you can spare the time you should definitely go check out iFabricator520 's story From Beyond the Grave. It's really good so far and I'm thinking if more people review we might get updates sooner (wink wink iFab it's okay I know you're busy)**

"Shit, shit, shit, Vince," Sam whispered to himself. Using Emily's cloak to stem the tide of blood seeping onto the dark metal floors of the jump ship, he tried desperately to calm his breathing and slow the panic rising in his gut.

"Tower Command, this is Astraeus. Please inform Dr. Siobhan at the Infirmary that we'll need immediate medical attention." Emily was pacing back and forth alongside Vincent's prone form. He'd lost quite a lot of blood, but he was conscious and clear-eyed, and that was a good sign. According to Evie, it was a clean wound and there were no immediate risks, but Sam seemed to think his friend was taking his last breaths.

"Acknowledged, Astraeus. The doctor will be notified and you will have an escort from the Hangar to the Infirmary. Tower Command out."

"I'm alright, Sam. Jesus." Emily couldn't stop the chuckle that bubbled out of her. After the stress of the mission and their combined injuries, it was safe to say they were all exhausted, and with Sam pestering him, Vincent's mood was only getting worse. Kneeling down at his left side, she lifted her bloodied cloak to check the wound. The bleeding looked like it had slowed to a trickle, but it was hard to tell much else with the area encased in armor.

"How's it look?" Vincent asked from where he lay. He wasn't sure if it was the weariness or the blood loss, but he found Emily's form to be quite pleasing. Her light armor clung rather tightly to her curves, and he discovered he was having a hard time keeping his eyes off of her. Doing his best to keep his eyes on the ceiling, he waited for her deduction.

"The bleeding's let up some." Her voice was quiet in the small interior of the ship. Vincent found it odd, the way she always tried to make herself seem smaller than she was. Like she wanted to just fade away into the background and attract no more attention than was strictly necessary. "I won't know more until we get you to the infirmary, though."

"How're you feeling, buddy?" Sam asked from his right. Evie was flitting around in the air above him, periodically scanning him and twitching all the while. Thinking for a moment on how to most accurately describe how he was feeling, he decided on going with the short version.

"Fucking fantastic, Sam. Just splendid." Emily snorted at his overly sarcastic tone, raising her hand to try and stifle the giggles threatening to spill forth. Vincent smirked, immensely pleased with himself for having made her actually _laugh_. Out loud. In front of someone else. Sam sat back on his heels and shook his head.

"I can't help that I'm worried about you, okay? Stop making fun of me."

The look on his face almost made Vincent feel guilty. Almost. "Sorry, Sam. You're like a mother hen, though. Honestly I'm fine. Yes, it hurts. Yes, I'm slightly dizzy. But I'm alright."

Nodding his acknowledgement of Vincent's apology, Sam folded his legs beneath him and put his back against the wall. With only a few minutes left until they reached the Tower, Sam wanted to just try and relax some. Their day had gone from a routine scouting mission to defending all of humanity from the growing Darkness. He just wanted a hot shower, a filling meal, and a full night of rest. Was that too much for a young Warlock to ask?

Before long, they were maneuvering for docking procedures at the Tower Hangar. The sun had set several hours ago on Earth, bathing everything in bright white moonlight. Sam helped Vincent to his feet and stationed himself under his right arm, hefting most of the Titan's considerable bodyweight onto his own much leaner frame. Emily grabbed their helmets and her bloodstained cloak and waited to get transmatted out into the hangar. Once their feet landed on solid ground, the escort team led the way to the Infirmary, ensuring they had a quick and easy path to the Infirmary.

Emily watched closely from where she trailed behind the two men. It was slow going, each step a labor in its own right. Vincent kept his head down and shouldered on, trying to keep his weight centered on his right side without putting too much of his weight on Sam. She admired his strength very much. When they reached the Infirmary, Siobhan was near the back working with another patient. There were more beds filled than usual, so Sam led Vincent towards one of the quieter sections and helped him up onto an empty bed. After a moment, a young human woman with dark hair and light green eyes approached them.

"Good evening, Guardians. I'll be assisting Dr. Siobhan for a while. I'm Dr. Cayler. What seems to be the problem tonight?" Sam stepped away from Vincent's side to show the new doctor his injury. She asked Vincent to strip the top half of his armor off, and after a moment's hesitation, he complied. Emily moved forward to help him, knowing he wouldn't be able to reach all of it. Grabbing the hem of his mesh under suit after they'd removed all the individual armor pieces, her knuckles briefly brushed across the warm skin just below his navel before she pulled the garment off over his head.

Sam sucked in a breath from where he stood behind Emily, who was doing her best not to think about just how soft that skin had been. The wound was larger than they had thought, and the solar bolt had nearly penetrated all the way through and come out on the other side. The flesh around the edges was burnt in places, and was a very aggravated red color. Blood seeped slowly down, retracing paths that had dried previously. Tsking, the doctor poked and prodded the area. Vincent did his best to control the knee-jerk reaction to slap her probing hands away.

"Well, it's going to need to be stitched closed," Dr. Cayler announced after she'd finished her examination. Emily rolled her eyes. Any idiot could see that it needed stitches. She couldn't quite put her finger on the reason, but she was reluctant to trust this new doctor. "Lie back please."

Vincent did as he was told, wincing as the skin around the wound stretched uncomfortably at the change of position. Cayler walked into the storage closet and came back with a very organized plastic bin full of medical supplies. She picked up a syringe and filled it with a clear liquid and moved to Vincent's side.

"I'm going to have to anesthetize you for this procedure," she stated. Vincent made to sit up, but she placed a hand on his chest, coaxing him back down. "It's just for a little while, and you won't feel a thing."

"No," Vincent said firmly. Emily had never heard him speak like that. He had always used soft, gentle tones around her. The only time she'd ever heard him raise his voice was when Sam annoyed the daylights out of him. The change was enough to make her wonder why he was so serious about staying awake, but at the same time believe he needed to stay conscious. It set her on edge.

"Look, I can't have you jerking about all over the place while I'm wor-"

"I said no." The look in his eye was deadly serious.

"Sir, I really need you to just cooperate. I can't have you moving all over the place while I'm trying to close the wound." The doctor was adamant, and the tension in their corner of the room had Emily's hair standing on end.

"Lady," Sam interjected, "Just listen to him. If he says he can hold still, he can."

The doctor moved towards Vincent, but he shied away. "I really don't know what the big deal is," she said, voice rising. "You'll only be out for an hour or two."

"If you touch him with that needle, there'll be hell to pay, alright? Just drop it." Emily had never thought Sam would ever threaten anyone, especially a doctor, but it sounded to her like he just had. Vincent pushed himself up to a sitting position and placed his left palm to his injury, trying to stop the blood that was steadily flowing. In that moment of distraction, the doctor stepped forward and stuck the needle into his thigh and pushed the plunger. In an instant, Emily was on the move. Instinct took over, and in that moment her only objective was protecting her team mate.

The young doctor didn't know what hit her, but Emily did. A leather clad fist to the jaw, with as much power behind it as she dared use against the weaker target. Cayler staggered back, hand flying to her face to cradle her throbbing jaw. Emily was disappointed she hadn't used enough force to knock her opponent out clean, but she supposed it was better that way. She would be in enough trouble just for attacking a civilian.

"What the fuck is wrong with you two?!" Sam shouted as he grabbed Emily's arms and dragged her away from the younger woman. His raised voice garnered attention from everyone conscious in the room. Dr. Siobhan threw her things down and rushed over, prying the two women apart and sticking herself between them.

"WHAT is going on over here? I have patients to care for!" The doctor was angry, but Sam was absolutely livid.

"Your fucking assistant just violated the right to non-consent for medical procedure. She gave Vincent a fucking sedative, Siobhan."

"I honestly don't see what the big deal is-," the younger doctor tried to interject, but Sam was having none of it.

"Shut your fucking mouth. Now." Emily couldn't see the look on his face, but she could picture it well enough. Still not fully understanding the scope of the situation and why it was so important that Vincent not be sedated, she chose not to join the verbal dispute, but stood silently just behind Sam. It was a gesture of solidarity to try and reassure the Warlock that he had backup if he needed it, and an intimidation tactic aimed toward the foolish young doctor.

Siobhan whirled around to face Cayler. "Is this true?"

"I couldn't-"

"Is this true? Did you administer a sedative without the patient's consent?"

"Yes. But I can't stitch the wound if he's squirming around the whole time!"

Siobhan closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose. After a few moments of silence, she reopened her eyes and fixed her gaze on the young doctor. "Wait for me in my office. Do not touch anything, and do not say a word. Do you understand?"

It wasn't up for debate. Cayler nodded her head and slunk off in the direction of Siobhan's small office, one hand cradling her quickly swelling face. After the door had closed behind her, Siobhan moved to Vincent's side. He was breathing faster, eyes fixed on the floor with a very concentrated expression on his face. They spoke quietly for a few minutes before coming to some sort of consensus. Siobhan disappeared into the storage closet and came out a moment later with a small plastic case. She carried the case to Emily and placed it in the Hunter's hands.

"I told him of your skills, Emily, and he wants you to do it. Sam," she called. The Warlock, still fuming, joined their circle and gave Siobhan his full attention. "Take him back to your room; he'll be more comfortable there. Emily will close the wound while he's under and administer any other attentions he may need when he wakes up. The main thing is to just be there for him. Let him know he's not alone."

"I don't understand," Emily said. "What's going on?"

"You'll see soon enough." The tone of Sam's voice was ominous. "Let's get moving. We've got about fifteen minutes before the sedative kicks in and we need to be ready when it does."

Stamping down on her confusion, Emily followed Sam to Vincent's side and grabbed their helmets again. Sam helped Vincent up and settled his weight as comfortably as he could before they set off in the direction of the dorms. The Plaza was mostly empty at this time of night, with only a few Guardians out and about. Once inside the room, Sam sat Vincent down on the edge of the bed and then went around the room, turning on all the lights they had.

"I don't want to do this again, Sam."

Settling himself quietly next to his friend, the Warlock looked into the Titan's eyes. The despair in Vincent's voice was enough to bring tears to Emily's eyes, even if she didn't quite understand why he was so upset.

"I know buddy. But we'll be right here when you wake up. We're not going anywhere. Right, Em?" Sam looked at her, his expression brooking no argument.

"Of course." Kneeling next to Sam, she watched Vincent take in a few shaky breaths. His eyelids drooped, but he fought hard to keep them open. They sat in silence until he started to sway, and then Sam leaned him back to rest against the pillow. Still fighting the drug's effects, he fidgeted for a bit, trying to stay awake as long as he could.

"It's okay, Vincent." She had never heard Sam's voice so soft before, or so comforting. "I'll be right here, okay? Everything's gonna be alright." A few more softly crooned words of comfort, and the Titan was out. Straightening to his full height, Sam shrugged out of his robes and pulled his gloves off.

"Go change and wash up, whatever you need to do to get this done." Again, his tone left no room for dispute. She fled the room, breathing hard to keep the tears at bay. On autopilot, she went to her room and quickly changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants before practically running down the hallway towards the nearest head to wash her hands.

Scrubbing methodically up to her elbows with the closest thing to antibacterial soap she could find, her mind wandered. It had been so long since she'd patched up anyone other than herself, she vaguely wondered why Siobhan had felt her worthy enough to take on this task. When she finished washing up, she found a clean towel and dried her hands. It wasn't hospital procedure per se, but with the circumstances being what they were she wasn't really worried.

When she reached Sam and Vincent's room, she kicked softly on the door to ask entrance. Sam pulled the door open just enough to see who was outside, and she was surprised to find him slightly sweaty. He opened the door to let her in and it was like walking into a new room. He'd pulled the two beds apart and placed his in one corner. Vincent's bed remained where it had been originally. He lay quietly on top of the blankets, and she would have mistaken him for dead if not for the slight rise and fall of his chest. Sam was pacing now, one hand fisted in his hair.

"Sam?" Her tentative voice broke the tense quiet, and Sam abruptly stopped his pacing. He faced her, and she couldn't help but notice the abnormally bright glow of his amber eyes. _Angry,_ she reminded herself. _Very angry._ "What's going on?"

He seemed at a loss for words for a moment before they just came tumbling out like he couldn't control it. "He has nightmares. When he first moved in it seemed like every night he'd wake up screaming, so eventually I just started doing the waking. Some night's it's not so bad, but others….. On the bad nights I try to wake him up as fast as I can. It seems like he has the same dream every couple nights, the really bad one. I try to wake him up before he gets to the end."

"What kind of dreams?" she asked. Gathering up what she needed from the plastic case Siobhan had given her, she knelt by the bed and lifted the bloody cloth Sam had pressed to Vincent's side and waited for an answer.

"I'm not sure," Sam said as he pulled the desk chair over and sat down. "He doesn't talk about it much. But I think he dreams of when he-"

He stopped, biting back whatever he'd been about to say. Emily already knew, though, so she supplied the words for him. "Of when he died."

Sam's eyes shot to her face, and she met his gaze calmly. "You know?" he asked. She only nodded and went back to her work. Sterilizing the area with a pre-soaked swab, she bent her head to her work and waited again.

"It must have been pretty terrible. He always wakes up asking for more light, more light. Eventually I just started leaving the lamp on when we went to sleep. He never really said anything about it, but he didn't have to." He shook his head. "I don't even want to imagine what happened to him. But if he ever wants to talk about it I'll be here, y'know? He's my best friend. I'll do what I can to help him."

She made her first stitch, hands a bit shaky but still sure. She couldn't help the way her eyes repeatedly strayed to the scar that stretched across the Titan's abdomen. "The last time this happened, we had no idea what the consequences would be. He got hit by a Centurion trying to protect Mirena. Threw him clean across the room. Dislocated shoulder, torn rotator cuff, broken collarbone… He was already delirious from the pain, so Siobhan sedated him and patched him up. About an hour after the surgery the drugs started wearing off, and he stated twitching. Before too long he was thrashing all over the place, but we couldn't wake him up. The drugs held him under while the dream tortured him. After he woke up he was like a completely different person. He still isn't back to what he used to be. Siobhan said she'd never sedate him again, and we both agreed."

Taking her time to make sure every stitch was done properly and not too tight, she just listened as Sam vented. She knew the story from Vincent's perspective all-too-well. But to hear it from another side was enlightening. Listening to Sam talk about Vincent was like listening to someone talk about their brother. There was love there, even if Sam didn't realize it.

"I could kill that stupid bitch for putting him through this again. But I'll just have to be satisfied with the lick you gave her. I didn't really want to pull you off of her, but we're already gonna be in enough trouble for that one punch. Worth it, though."

He was quiet for a while, and she didn't press him for more. She had enough to mull over while she finished up. Her hands worked of their own accord, the moves memorized several hundred years ago performed with ease. Before she realized it, she was finished. Placing a bandage over the neat row of stitches, she taped the edges down and had Sam help her wind a compression bandage around Vincent's middle over the wound. After making sure it was tight enough to stand up to a fair amount of movement, they laid him back down and began their wait.

The suturing hadn't taken too long to complete, but they couldn't be sure when he would wake up. Sam asked her how she'd known Vincent was a Resurrected. Playing it off that she had a good eye for such things, she dodged having to come up with a real answer. She was beginning to trust the two men more and more each minute she spent with them, but she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to tell them the truth about her.

"I can't believe I let this happen," Sam whispered. He sounded heartbroken. "He always watches out for me. Goes out of his way to keep me safe. And I let this happen to him. Some friend I am."

"Sam," Emily placed a hand on his knee, surprised at the fact that she'd actually initiated physical contact with the man. "It's not your fault. We didn't know she was going to do that. I'm sure Vincent doesn't blame you." Eyes glowing brilliant amber again, he stood and resumed his earlier pacing. On the bed, Vincent's hand twitched.

O.o.O.o.O

 _Screams filled the dark chamber as children ran, arms outstretched in the blackness as they went. With Sybil in his arms, Vincent was trying desperately to calm them, but it was no use. Salvation had come in the form of some sort of vehicle, but the people on the surface didn't know, couldn't possibly know about the weakened structure beneath them. Their heavy vehicles had driven right over the weak left corner, and the roof had begun caving in._

 _Vincent cradled the child to his chest, alarmed by how light she had become. Even in his weakened state he could lift her with ease. He called for his sister, desperately trying to be heard over the children's cries, but his throat was so dry he could barely make any sound at all. A hand grabbed his arm, latching on tightly. Amelia. But where was his sister?_

 _The ceiling groaned over their heads. They were running out of time. Passing Sybil to Amelia, he pushed them towards the nearest corner, hoping it would shelter them for the time being. With a deafening rumble, part of the ceiling collapsing in a heap of rubble and slabs of concrete. Dust filled the chamber, and Vincent's breath was stolen away. Fear gripped him tight in its frigid grasp._

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

 _Panic was overcoming any sense of rational thinking he had left. Screaming his sister's name, he fled deeper into the room, eyes closed tight against the dusty air._

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters.

 _He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see, he was deaf and dumb and blind as he stumbled about in the absolute dark that had become his living Hell._

He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name's sake.

 _She was gone, no more, along with several children crushed beneath the weight of the falling sky. The will to survive, though it seemed impossible now, drove him back to Amelia and Sybil. Protecting them was his first and last priority._

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me.

 _He was nearly there when the ground beneath him shook violently and he stumbled. Lying on his back with his face turned to where the sky should be, he asked, "Why us?" But there was only darkness, and desperation, and death. A sharp crack resounded from above, and suddenly it was falling, falling, and he couldn't move, and it was too late._

Thou prepares a table for me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over.

 _Pinned beneath a broken slab of concrete, he screamed. The angle was just so that the slab was slowly severing his lower half from his torso, and the pain was unimaginable. It was crushing him, slowly but surely, and there was no escaping it. With a pop, his spinal column separated between the L4 and L5 vertebrae, and took most of the pain with it. In shock and terrified, he couldn't help the tears that spilled from his eyes._

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

 _Stars danced behind his eyelids, a lightshow specially crafted for those who are dying. He'd never thought of his death much before, but ever since they'd been trapped down in the dark, the subject never strayed far from his mind. He'd expected dehydration first, maybe starvation. Crushed by a collapsed roof was not something he'd taken into consideration._

 _His mind wandered; the last image of his mother as she shoved him down into the depths, Sybil smiling with a butterfly resting on her open palm. Amelia by the sea, eyes filled with love as she gazed at him. The coy smile she wore as her hair drifted on the ocean breeze._

 _He was slipping. He could feel it deep inside, this great and heavy sigh as the animal within finally acknowledged defeat and let go of the fight. Cold crept its way up from his fingers into his chest and settled in, coiling up like an old friend long forgotten. One last shaking breath, one last hot tear sliding into his hair. One last heartbeat, and he was gone._


	11. The Herb Yielding Seed

**A/N: So here we are! Sorry for any confusion that may have occurred when I switched the name of the last chapter; I used the wrong one and didn't realize it. But now it's fixed! Sorry for the dark ending of the last chapter, but Vince's story is not a happy one. Nor is Emily's, when we get to hers. Just a heads up. I hope I did an ok job of making an emotional impact with some people while not causing too much harm. Also, Daydreamer B.A, I hope I've (sorta) remedied one of the issues you brought up with an at least semi-reasonable excuse behind it. To let everyone know, things will be explained a little more in-depth as we go on, but if there's any more confusion you can feel free to message me and I'll do my best to answer without giving too much plot away. :) As always, I hope you enjoy and please leave a review if you can find the time. Lyrics at the beginning of the chapter are from the song Before the Dawn by Grooveworx Trailers. Happy reading!  
**

 _There's nobody to pray to_

 _Nobody to tell you it's alright_

 _All the gods have fallen_

 _Will you make it through,_

 _Will you make it through the night?_

His waking was not a gradual process, nor was it the peaceful waking of a person who'd had quiet, pleasant dreams. His waking was abrupt, and it was violent. It began with a twitch of the fingers, a sharp intake of breath, and a deeply furrowed brow. Within seconds, the nightmare came to a close and he relived his dying. Sitting bolt upright in the bed, his eyes wildly searched his surroundings, his hands grasping at the pale scar that traced across his lower abdomen. Sweat beaded out across his ashen skin and his lungs worked overtime as he heaved in as much air as he could hold.

He was vaguely aware that Sam was speaking to him, but flashes of darkness crossed his eyes and drew him back to the anguish of his isolated ending. Trying desperately to shed the heavy black blanket of despair, he blinked hard, his entire body convulsively shuddering. Eyes closed, he sucked in sharp breaths through his nose. Hands too small to belong to Sam found their way to either side of his face, thumbs swiping away hot tears before settling to gently cup his cheeks.

"Vincent, look at me." Her voice was soft yet firm, but he wasn't ready to face them yet. Wishing he could go back to sleep and dream of only pleasant things instead of facing his friends, he opened his eyes. Aftershocks of phantom pain still shook him, making him gasp for breath under the crushing weight of the dream. Light filled every corner of the room and he squinted against the harshness but was thankful nonetheless.

"Look at me," Emily insisted. Unwilling to let her see the darkest depths of his internal madness, he fixed his gaze on a fleck of dirt on the wall. When he didn't immediately comply, she tugged gently on the right side of his face, trying to coax him to cooperate. Sam was pacing the length of their small room behind her, amber gaze alight. Vincent sighed and blinked hard before he turned his gaze to hers, as if a mere blink could clear away everything he didn't want her to see. She was perceptive, he knew, and despite not having spent time in close proximity with other people for quite some time, she had an amazing ability to read people more closely than anyone he'd ever met before.

When their eyes met, he was surprised to find hers empty. Completely devoid of any emotion other than perhaps mild concern. There was no pity in her stare, and for that he was grateful. Sam stopped his pacing and laid a hand on Vincent's shoulder. The uncontrollable trembling of his limbs lessened some as they sat. Emily's eyes bored into him like a drill, and despite their emotionless look, he felt as if she'd gone inside of him and laid all of his secrets, all of his darkness, bare in the bright heat of the sun. The longer they sat, the painful secrets dried up in the sun until they were like old bones, bleached white and brittle. But they didn't break, or crumble to a pile of dust. No, they were still there, but they were less frightening than they had been.

Her hands fell away from his face and things seemed to return to normal. She stood and went to the door as if she was unsure whether or not she should stay or run far, far away. Sam crouched so that he was on eye level with Vincent where he sat on the bed, hollow as a dry gourd. Fire burned in the Warlock's eyes. Vincent could feel the previously forgotten wound acutely now. It ached and burned beneath the tight bandage wrapped around his middle. Emily shifted where she stood by the door, arms crossed tightly across her chest.

"Could I… could I just have a minute, please?" His voice was almost lost in the empty space, quiet as he spoke. Sam stood and backed away, brows knitted together in concern. Emily left, taking her chance to escape when she could. She didn't know how much longer she could keep her tears in, and with the closed door between them, she let the dam break. Covering her mouth with the back of one hand, she doubled over and wept. It was not the tidy tears of physical pain, quickly cleaned away with the wipe of a sleeve, nor were they tears of loss. No, these were tears shed in agony, ugly and hot as they streamed down her face. She screamed a silent scream, unable to purge from her mind the image of pure hopelessness and anguish she'd seen reflected in his eyes. Mucus ran from her nose, mingling with her salty tears. Muffled voices reached her ears through the thin door, reassuring her that she had time to try and compose herself before Sam exited.

Choking on her breath, she tried desperately to stem the tide of empathy that washed over her. She wiped furiously at her face, sniffling around her blocked nose. Her pathetic blubbering made her angry, but how could she help herself? To have been removed from the emotions of others for so long and then be thrown onto the path of a Titan trying to cope with his tragic and terrorizing death was overwhelming. She wanted to fix him, to heal him like she used to heal people before, but how could she mend a broken soul? No amount of morphine or stitch work could fix that.

The door swung open and Sam stepped out. Running his hands through his indigo hair, he glanced down at her. She saw the fatigued expression he wore before she turned away and tried to cover her tear-stained face and bloodshot eyes. Still sobbing but trying desperately to console herself, she gasped when Sam spun her around to face him. He gave her a long, hard look before pulling her towards him and tucking her head beneath his chin. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close and just held her.

She cried all down the front of his robes. Having been deprived of human contact for as long as she had, self-inflicted as her exile had been, she'd forgotten how nice it was to have people to lean on. She'd forgotten how nice a simple hug felt. She'd forgotten that she wasn't alone. He didn't let go of her for a long time, and she thought that maybe he needed this just as much as she did. To have someone as close to you as Vincent was to Sam, and have that person go through such an agonizing experience with no way to stop it was difficult. Being unable to help that person cope was another struggle entirely. She envied them their friendship, their closeness.

When she could breathe evenly again without bursting into another round of tears, he loosened his grip on her and let her slide away. "I should probably, uh… go clean myself up," she whispered up at the Warlock. He gave her a concerned look, but nodded and let her go. Heading towards the nearest restroom to splash cold water on her face, she turned around and didn't look back.

O.o.O.o.O

"Evie?" Vincent lay on his back in his bed, left hand resting over the aching wound on his side. His eyes stared unseeing at the ceiling.

"Yes, Vincent?" Evie's soft, robotic voice drifted over from where she rested on the corner of the desk. For once, she was completely still.

"Why did you choose me?" When she didn't answer right away, he elaborated a bit. "You had to have passed by other candidates that were probably a much better choice than me."

Evie's one eye flashed, bright green even in the well-lit room. She seemed almost offended that he'd asked, but he honestly wanted to know. He'd been wanting to ask her for a while, but something had always come up. She settled, seeming to let the offense pass in light of their current situation.

"It's true," she stated softly. "There were others I could have chosen, but their souls did not speak to me the same way yours did. I searched long years for the perfect Guardian, and I found him buried beneath the rubble of an ancient civilization. I knew you were mine as soon as I heard your screams. They whispered on the winds like a wild animal howling. How could I possibly have just left you there?"

Lifting off the desk, she floated over, her eye scanning him briefly before she settled onto his bare chest. He was always surprised by how warm she was, and the slight humming vibration was a comfort he hadn't realized he'd gotten so accustomed to. With her solid weight holding him pinned in the here and now, he closed his eyes.

"The Traveler gave all the Ghosts a gift when we were created. One life, to be given to whoever we saw fit. One life, to be given to a new Guardian that would rise up to protect the Traveler in return for this gift. One life. It is my gift to you, Vincent. One as young as you should have another chance at happiness, if at all possible."

"One life…" Vincent mused. Their conversation was doing a decent job of distracting him while simultaneously answering questions he'd been harboring for some time. "If you can only give one life, why do I hear about Ghosts reviving Guardians that have died in battle?"

"To revive a dead Guardian there must be many of us gathered, and we must be close to the Traveler. Alone, we can't do much more than heal scrapes and bruises. It takes more Light and more focus than any one of us can muster. But together, we Ghosts can make miracles happen. Sort of like bees."

"What if a Guardian doesn't want to be revived?" The question came from one of the deep, dark places within. As much as he loathed the prospect of dying again, continuing on like this seemed like a worse fate. Evie seemed to think otherwise. She shot up from her place on his chest and fixed her eye on him, giving him as hard a stare as any Ghost could manage.

"If a Guardian is willing to revoke the gift his Ghost has given him, he must sign a contract that has been written in his own blood." She was angry and more than a little hurt, but she understood where the question came from. Vincent had struggled since the first day she'd brought him back. Sam had helped immensely, but with nightmares constantly plaguing him, he couldn't move on. His death followed him everywhere he went. She softened, backing out of his face to a more neutral position hovering over his left shoulder.

"I understand you're in pain, Vincent. I gave you your second chance, and if you don't want to continue I won't begrudge you that." She looked away, her green gaze falling on the thin sheet he'd draped over the scar before moving back to his face. "We are bonded, you and I, as all the other resurrected Guardians are bonded to their Ghosts. I feel what you feel, Vincent. But please, give me a chance to show you that it won't always be like this. You can be _happy_. We just need time."

She settled herself over his heart, each strong, steady thump a reminder that he lived because she'd wanted him to. She hadn't given a second though when she'd found those pale bones buried in the dark earth. She'd never asked herself whether or not he'd wanted to come back. She'd just acted. Even so, she wasn't ready to let him give up. Not yet. Not without a fight.

"I'm not going anywhere, Evie," Vincent promised. Opening his eyes again, he winced when he felt blood seeping up through the bandage around his middle. Knowing it was time to face Sam and Emily, even though he was embarrassed and in no mood for pitying gazes, he knew he had to let them in. He needed help coping with his past, but he wasn't sure when he would be ready to tell them everything. Sam had deduced a few things already, but as for the how and why of Vincent's death, the only other living soul that was privy to that information was Evie.

Letting Evie know it was alright to send them a message to return when they wanted to, he sighed. Tired didn't even begin to describe the bone-deep weariness that permeated the very center of his being. He longed for quiet, dreamless sleep and a few days of peace and quiet. Sam arrived first, an oddly unreadable expression on his face. Emily trailed in a few moments later, eyes slightly swollen and cheeks splotchy.

"Thanks, guys," Vincent said, breaking the silence. "It was… easier this time 'round." Sam nodded and shifted his weight from one foot to another. Emily stood in the corner, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the floor.

"How do you feel?" Sam asked. Vincent pulled the sheet off his middle to reveal the bloody bandage wrapped around his middle.

"This kind of hurts." Emily's eyes shot up to his face before sliding down to survey the damage. Immediately her demeanor changed. Straightening and pushing her hair out of her face, she took the three steps to Vincent's bedside and knelt, hands already working at the cloth strip to remove it. He sat up slowly to allow her to unwind the strip from around his torso and laid back down when she was done.

When she saw the damage he'd done, she sucked a breath in through her teeth, brows knitted. Two of the nine stitches she'd made had been ripped loose, the flesh jagged and torn. Blood seeped up slowly from the new tears and she dabbed at it gently with the bandage.

"Sam, I need alcohol and the suture kit, please." When he handed the items over, she set to work repairing the rent skin. She cut the old stitches loose and set them on the bloody bandage before examining the wound and trying to figure up the best course of action. Diagonal stitches would work if they were loose enough to keep the skin from healing sideways, but if left too loose would leave the wound open and even more susceptible to infection. Digging through the kit Siobhan had given her, she found the perfect remedy in the form of six butterfly bandages lying in the bottom of the small box.

Pulling two of the pristine white strips from the package, she set them down on Vincent's stomach just above his navel and reached for the alcohol. After sterilizing the area she pulled the plastic backing off of the butterflies and placed them carefully over the torn skin, adhesive side down. She smoothed them gently to make sure there were no bubbles trapped underneath and then collected her trash. Vincent's eyes were closed, his breathing steady. She thought that perhaps he'd fallen asleep and was getting some well-deserved rest until his deep voice broke the silence in the room.

"Thanks, Emily." One eye cracked open to peer up at her for a few seconds before closing again. He looked absolutely exhausted. His skin was pale and cold, and there were dark circles under his eyes, but she had a feeling he wasn't going to be going to sleep any time soon. Perching on the edge of the desk, she crossed her arms over her chest and tried not to think about it lest she burst out into tears again. Sam lowered himself into the desk chair a few feet from her and mirrored her pose. He'd shucked his robes and changed into something a little more comfortable while she'd been working, and looked quite tired himself.

They sat for a long while, none of them willing to break the silence that had fallen over them. Just like most of their silences, it was not uncomfortable. Having followed the team for so long, Emily felt like she already knew them. She had a lot more to learn, yes, but basic characteristics and mannerisms had been memorized from the very beginning. And despite her quirks and odd behavior, the boys had more or less accepted her without a hitch. It was something she was extremely grateful for, and something that amazed her as well. That they were so open minded and accepting despite her reputation that she was actually glad to have been placed on their team. But she would never tell the Vanguards that. Cayde would never let her live it down.

It felt good to have companions, people to rely on. She'd spent so long on her own that she'd forgotten what it was like to have people that she could lean on in times of need. It had only been a few days but she could already feel herself changing. She hadn't been herself for such a long time she'd begun to wonder if she'd ever see that side of herself again. She would always be changed by her death and the experiences that led up to it, but maybe she didn't have to face her past all alone. Maybe now she could finally stop running and just breathe, comfortable in the presence of her newfound friends.

Blink broke the silence, informing Sam that Ikora would like to speak with him. Sam heaved a sigh but stood up anyway. Reassuring them that he'd be back within the hour, he slipped from the room, Blink's shining bronze form following closely behind him. Left alone in the quiet with only a silent Vincent for company, Emily decided to steal Sam's spot in the desk chair. Propping her feet up on the edge of the desk she leaned the chair back until she was comfortable. She tucked her hands in the pockets of her overly large jacket and closed her eyes. Just for a minute, she told herself.

Before too long her breathing had evened out as she drifted off to sleep. Vincent had opened his eyes to find her in a rather uncomfortable looking position, but decided against waking her. She needed her rest. Waiting for Sam to get back, he tried to busy himself with a math problem, but after about a minute he remembered he _hated_ math and would rather gouge his eyes out than spend any more time than he had to thinking about it. Scrapping that, he tried to recall the few verses of Shakespeare he'd memorized while in school.

Hamlet drifted back to him, whispering echoes of sadness and revenge:

" _To die, to sleep -_

 _To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub,_

 _For in this sleep of death what dreams may come..."_

He wondered briefly if anyone alive now remembered Shakespeare, or had even heard the name before. He couldn't imagine many Guardians reading the now-ancient works while they were growing up. It was mind boggling to think about the fact that he'd been reborn hundreds of years after his death in a time where the only books commonly read were written by previous Guardians about the enemies of the Last City. He wondered if anyone would even understand the language Shakespeare used in these times.

Sam returned in the midst of his musings, waking Emily gently before taking a seat on his own bed. He looked troubled and weary, but there was also a glimmer of excitement in his fiery amber eyes.

"I'm sorry it took me so long; I was expecting a debriefing, or maybe a reprimand for your punching that doctor," he focused that statement toward Emily before he continued. "What I wasn't expecting was Ikora to tell me that the Queen of the Reef wants to meet the Guardians that destroyed the Heart of the Black Garden."

Emily's mouth fell open. Vincent had no idea what Sam was talking about. The Reef? Were they traveling down into the depths of the ocean to visit some mermaid Queen? Seeing Vincent's confusion, Sam offered a quick explanation.

"The Reef is where the Awoken come from. The Awoken are descendants of humans that tried to flee the Darkness during the Collapse by running to the far edges of space. Something happened out there that changed them, and they made their home in the wreckage of their ships. It's called the Reef. And day after tomorrow, that's where we're going."

Vincent sighed. They'd only just gotten back from a mission and they'd already been given another. It might have been because he was tired beyond belief, but he was tempted to tell the Vanguards to go fuck themselves and sleep for three days straight. If only he could sleep uninterrupted. _That_ would be a very pleasant miracle. Seeing that Emily's mouth was still hanging open, Sam reached over and stuck a finger under her chin. She snapped her jaws closed and shot him a dirty look.

"I've never seen the Reef before," she said. "And to be invited by the _Queen_ of all people. I'm a little bit stunned," she chuckled nervously. Sam grinned at her.

"I've never seen it either. So this will be a first for all of us." He caught sight of Vincent's less-than-ecstatic expression and sobered a bit. "Don't worry Vince, after we go meet the Queen you get three days to just sit around and do absolutely nothing. The Vanguards know you're injured, but apparently they've been trying to broker a deal with the Awoken for the past few months and they're willing to jump through flaming hoops to keep her happy."

Vincent just nodded, closing his eyes again. He listened to Sam and Emily as they talked, their excitement growing with each passing second. After about an hour, Emily was visibly drooping. Sam offered to walk her to her room, but she politely declined. Wishing them goodnight, she slipped soundlessly from the room. Sam tried to start a conversation, but Vincent just wasn't in the mood, and the Warlock eventually gave up.

Turning off all the lights except the desk lamp, Sam stripped down to his underwear and crawled beneath the blankets of his bed. Letting loose the most satisfied groan he ever had at the feel of the soft mattress and cool sheets against his bare skin, he smiled. Sam had several things he loved so much he couldn't properly describe his feelings for; his mother's cooking, beautiful women, and his bed. Sighing a perfectly contented sigh, he wished Vincent goodnight and dreamless, peaceful sleep before his own exhaustion overcame him and he drifted away to his own dreams.


	12. He Saw That It Was Good

**A/N: Whew! Another one bites the dust. Sorry it's been so long and that the chapter is shorter than most of the others, things got busy and it's Christmas weekend and all that jazz. I hope everyone had a good weekend and got everything they asked Santa for XD As always, any feedback is greatly appreciated. I'm going to reiterate here that this IS an AU story, and that being said I've got quite a bit of creative leeway. So just bear with me, and if anything needs more explanation please alert me to the fact and I'll do my best to remedy it as soon as I'm able. Questions are always welcome. :) Enjoy!**

The next morning, Sam woke feeling refreshed and hungry. His bladder was screaming at him to put some pants on and go make a head call, but he was so warm and content beneath the blankets he didn't really want to move. Glancing over to where Vincent lay sprawled on his bed, Sam's mood fell instantly. After his pleasant dreams and deep sleep, he'd forgotten about the team's stressful time the night before. The stark white bandages nearly blended perfectly against Vincent's pale skin, a blank reminder of the horrible events they'd been through.

Sighing, Sam rolled onto his back and stared blankly at the ceiling. Anger broiled forth again as the memories came rolling through his mind. He was glad Emily had punched the doctor, as she'd provided enough of a distraction for Sam that he hadn't been able to act on his feelings. Having to restrain the Hunter had taken his mind away from the slightly murderous thoughts he'd been thinking. He and Vincent had been through a lot in the past six months, and had become fast friends. Bonds forged in battle are not easily broken, and for the Warlock that was doubly true. The only team mate he hadn't been able to form a fellowship with had been Mirena. That being said, he'd still been protective of her, but her reckless behavior made it hard for him to find any sympathy for her.

His and Vincent's friendship had been almost immediate though. From the first day they'd spent together, Sam had liked the Titan. Cautious and a little bit lost, Vincent had shouldered his way through the first month like a champ. Some of the questions had seemed odd at first, but when he'd discovered that Vincent was a Resurrected Guardian, everything started to made sense. Sam had vowed to take care of the human that had been so lost and alone, and after six months he felt he hadn't done a very good job.

Sam had always felt that guilt was a rather useless emotion, but it hurt nonetheless. Failure wasn't something he was accustomed to, and at that moment he felt like he was the biggest disappointment in all the City. He was supposed to take care of his friends; Traveler knew Vincent had taken more hits for him that he could count, but the one time the Titan needed him, he'd allowed his focus to lapse and Vincent had paid the price.

Sighing again, the Warlock rubbed a hand over his face and up into his bright indigo hair. His stomach grumbled, and his bladder was protesting even more loudly, so he sat up and got out of the bed. After pulling some pants on, he slipped quietly out the door and wandered down the hallway towards the nearest restroom. When his bladder was finally quiet and content, he returned to the room and sat down at the desk. Papers littered the normally clean surface, blank pages he'd pilfered from various sources to use in his free time.

Grabbing the nearest writing utensil, he put pen to paper and began to sketch. At first, he had no concrete idea of what he was drawing; he let the smooth motions of his hand lull him into a sort of trance as he worked. A form began to take shape, the lines melding together until the rough outline became a more refined portrait. It felt so good to create again, to bring something beautiful into the world. A soft knock at the door broke his concentration, and the reverie faded.

Emily's head peeked around the door. Seeing him sitting at the desk, she entered the room fully, careful to keep the bags she was carrying from banging against the door as she went. Once fully in the room, she walked over and set the bags gently on the floor. Glancing over to Vincent's sleeping form, Sam watched her eyes trace the lines of his body until they rested on the bandage. Seemingly satisfied that there were no dark red stains marring the crisp white, she greeted the Warlock.

"Morning, Sam," she whispered. He gave her a small smile before turning back to his sketch. A wonderful smell was beginning to fill the air, tweaking his curiosity as to just what exactly was _in_ those bags, but he chose to ignore it for the moment. Letting his mind wander as he began to fill in smaller details in the picture, he settled into the comfortable quiet. Sometimes he wished they'd been given a room with a window, something he could just sit and stare out for a while. Maybe listen to the birds chirp. But he'd grown grudgingly used to the dampened silence that usually filled his mornings.

Emily perched on the side of his bed, looking uncomfortable and maybe a bit bored. The chill air raised gooseflesh on the exposed skin of his back and arms, so he put the pen down for good and stood from the chair. Stretching until his back popped loudly, he reached for the nearest shirt and pulled it on over his head. Plopping back down in the desk chair, he spun it around to face the room. Vincent stirred slightly, but went still again a few seconds later.

"How'd you sleep?" Sam asked Emily at a whisper. She pursed her lips some, her expression darkening for a moment before she shook her head.

"I didn't," was her simple reply. "Couldn't, really. Not after that." He eyes cut back to where Vincent lay before returning to Sam's. He felt a little guilty that he'd been able to sleep and she hadn't, but he'd also been through more of Vincent's night terrors than she would probably ever know about. He'd known his friend would be alright, even though it would take him a few days to recover and return to his normal self. "What about you?"

"Alright. You sort of get used to it," he explained. "Not so much used to what it does to him, but used to the fact that it happens. It's kind of fucked up, but that's the way it is. All we can do is make sure shit like what happened last night doesn't happen ever again." She nodded, eyes fixed on where her hands lay folded in her lap. "I want to help him, but how can I protect him from his past?"

There was no answer from the Hunter, and he hadn't expected one. It was a question he'd tried to answer for the first few weeks, but had quickly realized he simply couldn't. Sam was many things, but a healer of any sort wasn't one of them. Sure, he could bring himself back from the brink of death, but it wasn't so easy with others. And wounds that didn't bleed were even harder to heal.

O.o.O.o.O

She'd wandered the Tower right up until the sun broke over the horizon, bathing the City in cold white light. After a few moments watching the Traveler as the sun rose, an idea struck her. After discussing with Ajax for a moment, he brought her ship around and transmatted her into the cockpit. Flying slowly, he took her to the spot she'd indicated to him and hovered the craft over the building. She'd been to the City many times before on her sleepless nights or empty days and knew her way around fairly well. She hadn't seen everything it had to offer, but she'd been around enough to know where to get decent food.

Most places weren't doing business so early, but the store she'd chosen specialized in breakfast foods. Entering the building, she let she various scents wash over her. The clerk behind the counter had a kind smile and a calming feel about him. Placing her order, she tried to think of all the foods the boys would like and finally decided on one of everything. The menu wasn't particularly large, and the worker assured her that everything would be done within half an hour. She was more than willing to wait.

Like Vincent, she found the mash served at the tower to be barely palatable, but with it being the closest source of nourishment and the easiest to obtain, she sucked it up and shoveled the protein paste down as quickly as she could.

When the clerk handed the bags over almost exactly thirty minutes later, she paid him the amount he'd listed and added an extra twenty Glimmer for his trouble. Smiling kindly again, he thanked her profusely until she was safely out the door and away again. At this time in the morning, there weren't many civilians out wandering around the City, and the ones who were paid no mind to the jump ship hovering overhead. With Guardians coming and going as they pleased, the people of the City were quite used to the sight of the ships zooming about in the skies above.

Speeding back to the Tower hangar, she held her bundles close to her chest, the warmth and smells reminding her of home. Her mother rousing her from bed so she would have plenty of time to get ready for school, and racing down the stairs to find her father over the stove, scrambled eggs and bacon crackling away in the frying pan.

She smiled at the memories. With the ship safely docked, Ajax put her out again and they took off at a brisk walk, her short legs carrying her along towards the dorms. Her footsteps were quiet against the warm stone flooring of the Plaza. Before long they were heading up the stairs and through the double doors, down the hallways and around the corners until she stopped outside the door marked 117. She shifted her bags and knocked gently on the door before opening it a crack and sticking her head through.

Sam looked up at her entrance and she shimmied into the room, careful not to make too much noise. She set the bags down, trying her hardest not to peek over Sam's shoulder at what he was scribbling. They exchanged a greeting and she sat herself down on the edge of the bed, unwilling to sit on the carpeted floor. After her long, sleepless night, she might not be able to get back up again. Sam asked her how she'd slept, and she replied honestly. He vented a bit then, trying to explain his feelings, and then asked her a question she knew she couldn't answer.

How can I protect him from his past?

She knew all too well what the Warlock meant, but she'd never let anyone get close enough to even try to help her. Except Cayde. And that was only because she hadn't had much of a choice in the matter. Vincent was lucky to have a friend that cared as much as Sam did. And though it was awkward and she felt out of place most times, Vincent now had her as well. What a force they were, she thought and nearly chuckled aloud. Two Resurrected Guardians battling their inner demons and a Warlock trying desperately to hold them fast together. She shook her head.

Just then, Vincent stirred on the bed, and it seemed as though he was waking. He took a few deep breaths through his nose and then his eyes opened and he gazed blearily around the room. "I smell food. _Actual_ food."

The Titan sat up carefully, doing his best not to disturb his wound but visibly excited at the prospect of something to eat other than the slop they served in the mess hall. Sam was openly laughing at Vincent's cautious but hurried movements as he swung his feet over onto the floor. Emily was quietly pleased with herself, the slightest of smug smiles forming on her lips. Sam stood and started prying the bags open, causing Vincent to moan as the sweet smell of hotcakes, biscuits, and sausage filled the room.

Vincent had let his hair down from some time in the night and it fell loosely around his shoulders in dark waves. He pushed a hand through it, smoothing it back out of his face as he stood. Wrapped snuggly in its bandage, his wound didn't look like it had bled overmuch during the course of the night. His scar peeked out beneath the lower wrappings on his right side, drawing her eyes for a moment before she forced herself to look away. Dressed only in a pair of sweatpants that hung rather loosely off his narrow hips, she found averting her eyes to be a difficult task.

Vincent was by no means a small man, but as far as other Titans went, he was an average size. Well-muscled but not nearly as uncomfortably bulky as some of the others, she thought he was probably the best looking Titan she'd come across yet. Not that she spent much time thinking of those sort of things. He held himself in an oddly graceful way for his build, and watching the way he moved was quickly becoming one of her favorite pastimes. In just a few short days of being near him, her attraction was getting out of hand. She'd always felt a pull towards him, and assuming it was because of their similar situations, she hadn't given it a second thought. She'd wanted to protect him in the beginning, nothing more. She never thought she'd be placed on a _team_ with the man.

But here they were, gathered around in a small dorm room, preparing to share a meal together. Shadows still filled Vincent's eyes, but he was making an effort to shake off his darkness and rejoin the light. She admired his strength of will. Here he was, making an effort to rise above his bloodstained past, and all she'd done was crumple beneath the weight of her own. Vowing to do better, she rose from her seated position on Sam's bed and helped dig into the splendid meal laid out before them.

O.o.O.o.O

Vincent was going to burst. He hadn't stuffed himself so full of food for as long as he'd lived in this second-life, but everything had tasted so wonderful he hadn't been able to stop himself. Sam had done the same despite having never once complained about the protein paste served in the Tower mess, and Emily had done her absolute best to follow suit. The end result consisted of bags strewn about the floor and empty food containers littering every available surface. Vincent had resumed his horizontal position on his bed, and Sam had positioned himself as comfortably as he could in the swiveling desk chair. Emily was lying on Sam's bed, head propped up against the wall and feet dangling over the edge.

"That," Vincent sighed, "was amazing. Thank you Emily." Sam thanked her as well, and she waved their thanks away with a dismissive flick of her wrist. Vincent figured she couldn't move much more than that. Drowsiness washed over him, and as the room regained its usual quiet he felt himself begin to drift off. Evie appeared and took a quick scan, the light of her bright eye bathing him in a sickly green glow.

Seemingly satisfied with her findings, she vanished again. Vincent didn't think he'd ever truly get used to that. Emily shifted, sitting up and wrapping an arm around her midsection. "I'm going to fall asleep if I lay here any longer. Do we have anything on the agenda for today Sam?"

At the mention of his name, the Warlock cracked one eye open and peered at her from beneath azure lashes. Looking for all the world like a lazy cat after a long nap, Sam groaned as he stretched his sore muscles out. Shaking his head at her, he spun the chair around until he was facing her. Vincent was listening with only half an ear. "Nothing today except rest. Tomorrow afternoon, we fly to the Reef and meet with the Queen, and then after that Vince gets three days to heal. You and I may or may not get called away to provide assistance on other missions. Depends on how the Vanguards are feeling."

Emily gave a thoughtful hum and then picked herself up off the bed. "In that case, I think I'll go and have a nap. Let me know if anything comes up. Vincent," she said, turning to look down at him. "I'd like you to go and have Dr. Siobhan check over that wound, if you don't mind. She may have a better way to patch those tears than what I did."

Gazing up at her from beneath his lashes, he nearly stole her breath from her lungs. A barely there smirk played across his lips, and he wore it so well she wondered why he ever bothered with any other expression. "What, are you not confident in your abilities?"

His teasing remark caused one of her eyebrows to raise of its own accord. Unwilling to acknowledge his baiting, she spun on her heel and left the room. He was obviously in better spirits than he had been the night before, but she also felt some of their conversation over breakfast had found him forcefully cheerful. Shaking her head and closing the door on both the two men sitting in the room and any musings she might have started, she made her way to her room and collapsed into the soft, cool sheets. She was asleep before her body had the chance to fully relax.

Vincent was drifting again, things having returned to peaceful quiet once Sam settled himself in his own bed. After their long, hard fight to defeat the Heart, he felt they all deserved a little down time. And now they'd be going to meet a Queen. He wasn't sure how he was going to get into his armor with his busted ribs and now this new injury, but he'd be damned if he walked into such an unfamiliar place without adequate protection. In a pinch he could always throw up a shield, but those didn't last forever and they weren't entirely impenetrable. If anyone decided they wanted to enter the shield's protective bubble and _then_ shoot at them, they'd be as good as dead.

For now, though, he was going to try and get a little more sleep. He was hoping for another few hours of uninterrupted rest, but he was still apprehensive about the possibility of more nightmares on the horizon. Despite this, he was tired, and chose to take his chances. Letting his eyelids fall closed, he tried to think of happy things before drifting off to sleep.

This time, it was blissfully void of any dreams that he could remember at all.


	13. The Third Day

**A/N: Whew! Worked hard to get this one out in a more timely manner, so it probably sucks lol. Oh well. At least there's a little bit more action this time round instead of just sleepy Guardians eating a hearty breakfast and passing out on every available flat surface. Heh heh. Warriors need their rest too guys. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it enough to leave me some feedback, and if not that's okay too. I know this story probably isn't everyone's cup of tea, but that's the nature of art, right? :D**

"Do you need some help with that?" She'd been watching him struggle with various pieces of his armor for quite some time, but hadn't asked before now for fear of damaging his pride. It was painful to watch, though, so she'd told herself to hell with his pride. Moving over and taking his right pauldron from him, she pretended not to notice the way his fingers shook. Vincent stood quietly and let her fuss over him, tsking though her teeth as she buckled his armor into place.

He could get most of the left side of his body without assistance, but the reach needed to get armor on his right side pulled painfully at the tender flesh of his most recent injury. They'd spent the day before resting and talking, and woke fully prepared to go meet with the Queen of the Reef. Everything seemed normal to Emily, but Vincent could tell Sam was on edge. The normally talkative Warlock had been strangely quiet since he'd given the order for the team to suit up and prepare for the flight, and Vincent couldn't help but wonder if he was worried about meeting a concentrated mass of his people. Having never met a Reef-born Awoken before, Vincent had no idea what they were like. They would soon find out.

With Emily helping, getting armored up was much faster than he was used to. Her fingers were nimble, and her touch was light as she worked her way from his shoulder to his wrist, buckling armor pieces in place as she went. The Hunter was already fully dressed except for her helmet, which lay beside his and Sam's on the desk against the wall. When they finally managed to get him fully dressed, Sam stood from where he'd been sitting on the edge of his bed, snatched his helmet up, and tucked it under his left arm.

"Ready to go?" he asked. When his two teammates declared that they were ready, he nodded his head once in a sharp bob and left the room. Vincent followed close on his heels as they wound their way through the halls toward the Plaza, and Emily brought up the rear a few feet behind the Titan. They'd decided to take Sam's ship, and when they reached _The Birth of History_ where it was docked in the hangar, their Ghosts transmatted them into the ship and they took their seats. Sam sat in the forward seat, with Emily behind and to the left and Vincent to her right.

Blink quickly took them to orbit and then into warp, speeding towards the very edge of controlled space. Vincent tried to relax for the journey, but with Sam so wound up he found he was having a difficult time. Sam was normally the rock of the group, the unmoving, lighthearted stone that everyone could lean on when they needed to. Today, he was tense with nervous energy. It seemed like hours before Blink dropped them from warp down to a slower, cruising speed at the edge of the Reef's territory. Keeping on a straight trajectory, they all three jumped when the ship's comm line crackled to life.

"Intruder bearing 127, you have crossed into the realm of the Awoken. State your business or be fired on by order of the Queen." The feminine voice was stern, and Vincent believed very much that the Awoken would shoot them down if they didn't give a good enough reason. Just then, Sam spoke up, the authority in his voice ringing clear.

"We are Guardians from Earth. The Queen has summoned us for a meeting to discuss our recent mission to the Black Garden." There was a pause from the other end of the channel, and then the voice spoke again.

"Conform to my trajectory, Guardian," at that moment, two ships appeared as if from nowhere, flanking their own ship as they coasted along. "Any deviation will be taken as an act of aggression."

Sam chuckled nervously from his seat in the front. "Warm welcome, eh? And to think this is how you get treated when you've been _invited_ for a visit." Vincent glanced over to where Emily sat deep in her seat. She met his gaze with raised eyebrows and a shrug of her narrow shoulders. Suddenly, Vincent was quite sure this wasn't a good idea. The further they flew, the more sure he became that this was, indeed, a very _bad_ idea. They docked at the hangar and transmatted out to find a very impressive looking guard detail waiting for them. Their weapons were confiscated, and when they'd been properly disarmed and made very uncomfortable, their guards led them away through the city-ship the Awoken called home.

Finally, they seemed to arrive at their destination. A throne of sorts sat on a raised dias, and everywhere except the walkway they stood on and the platform the throne rested on was empty space. Emily shied away from the edge, pressing closer to Vincent as their party came to a stop. There was a woman draped over the throne, obviously very accustomed to the chair and the power it represented. A man stood to the right, his hair crow-feather black and eyes burning like fire. He was obviously displeased to see the three Guardians. After a few moments of waiting for something to happen, the woman turned her head towards them as if she'd only just realized they'd arrived.

"So," she began, her softly melodic voice carrying to them in the vast room. "These are the Guardians that destroyed the Heart." She stood, all catlike grace and ethereal beauty as she moved down the steps towards them. Before reaching the last step, she stopped short. Apparently, that was close enough for her liking. "What, brother, do you think of these noble warriors? These ones are different than the three that came before."

The dark haired man took a few steps towards them, sizing them up as he passed in front of him. When his bright tawny gaze met Vincent's, he took an instant dislike towards the man. His greyish skin was several shades darken than Sam's, and his eyes shone a little brighter, but there was no kindness in those eyes. Only contempt for a creature he found to be unworthy of his attention. Seeming to finish his scrutiny, he turned on his heel, cape billowing out behind him as he made his way back to his sister.

"I find it hard to believe that these Guardians are capable of even reaching the Heart, let alone destroying it." Venom dripped from his words. Feeling very thankful for his helmet then, Vincent scowled. They could very well have died trying to save the entirety of the known universe from the growing Darkness, and this insufferable man felt he had a right to stand there and belittle them? His fists clenched involuntarily at his sides.

"Come now, brother. These are esteemed guests, and they are to be treated respectfully." The Queen paced back and forth, her piercing blue eyes trained on the three Guardians. "You obviously have some skill in battle to be able to take on such a task and survive. Tell me, Guardian, why is it you that stands before me instead of the ones that came to find a way into the Black Garden?"

Sam stepped forward as far as the guards would allow and reached up to pull his mask off. Upon revealing his face, the Queen's brother narrowed his eyes in scrutiny. "The team originally given the task of destroying the Heart were injured and unable to complete the mission. We were called in to complete the task in their place." Sam was studiously avoiding the Prince's gaze, Vincent noticed. His indigo hair shone brighter in the light of the enormous room.

"I see." The Queen took a few steps to her left, eyes watching them closely. Turning her back to them, she returned to her throne and gracefully sat, crossing one leg over the other before turning to silently regard them. Her brother paced back and forth before the dias, reminding Vincent of a loyal dog protecting its master. Sam stared studiously up at the Queen, waiting for her next move. Emily, ever wary of the precipice a few feet from her, pressed closer to Vincent's left side.

With his injury beginning to burn furiously, he shifted on his feet to try and take some of the strain off of the area. He wondered what they were doing here, caught like flies in a trap and surrounded by potential enemies with no idea what was going to happen next. The Queen fixed her gaze upon him, and he tried to guess what was going through her head.

"Sister, I beg you to reconsider. These Guardians have shown us nothing special; we do not need them, no matter how much they may need us." The Prince sneered at Sam as he spoke. Remarkably, Sam stood still, taking the insult without providing a scathing retort. Vincent was surprised, but he supposed it was good Sam was able to keep his head in this situation. The Queen cocked her head, but said nothing. "Send them back to their precious Traveler; they have nothing we need."

Vincent shifted his feet again, and this time Emily glanced his way. Unable to see her expression through the faceplate of her mask, he returned his gaze to the front of the room. A few seconds later, Emily's voice carried quietly into his helmet.

"You okay?" Her voice was muffled but concerned. "Well, the Prince seems a bit dodgy. I'd like to get back to the ship before I kill the bloody man," Vincent replied. His anger was apparent, but he tried to keep his voice down. Even on a private channel, if they spoke loudly enough their voices would be heard in the vast emptiness of the room.

"I meant about your wound," Emily said, giggling a bit.

"Oh, that. I will say I've been better," he told her. "But if Sam can stand there and take this abuse I can stand here quietly for a while longer."

The Queen rose from her throne, eyes locked onto Sam as she descended the steps and came to a halt just before the indigo haired Warlock. The guards parted ranks to allow her to move closer, and she eyed him up and down while she made a slow circle around him. Eyes fixed blankly ahead of him, Sam stood stock still until she completed her circuit. Covering the few feet that lay between the Sam and Emily, the Queen continued her observations, looking them all head to toe. She gazed up at Vincent's faceplate for quite some time before ordering him to remove his helmet completely.

Doing as she asked, Vincent broke the seal beneath his left jaw and pulled the heavy helmet off over his head. The Queen's electric blue eyes met his for a moment before she spoke. "This one is injured." Her canorous voice carried softly in the strange room. "So willing, these Guardians are, to lay their lives down in order to protect all that is left of the Light. Should we not do the same, brother? Should we not rise and fight alongside them? Allow our warriors to train amongst their people? Tell me, Uldren, should they face the threat alone?"

To Vincent, her questions seemed rhetorical. To any sane man threatened with extinction, the answer would undoubtedly be to aid the Guardians in their fight. But this was the Reef, and these Awoken did things differently. Uldren stewed for a while before he answered.

"The Queen is wise. I will trust her judgement on the matter, as will all her people." Eloquently put, but the scathing tone he used ruined any chance of them believing he approved of his sister's musings. Better to let all of the Light fall than stop so low as to work alongside the Guardians. Chuckling with her lilting laugh, the Queen returned her attention to Emily. She was doing her best to hide the fact that she was desperately afraid of falling to her death over the ledge, and met the Queen's gaze evenly, though she knew the strange woman could not see her face.

Glancing between Emily and Vincent, the Queen scrunched her face up into an elegant frown, her brows knitted together as she thought. Vincent shifted uncomfortably, more than ready to get his team out of the strange place they'd landed in. "This one is injured," the Queen said suddenly. Moving back around to face Vincent, she gazed up at him with her bright blue eyes. "And look how this one protects his wounded side." Emily took a self-conscious half step away from Vincnet, but the blonde woman was already moving on. "How clearly they care for one another. Delightful."

Mara Sov resumed her place upon the throne, crossing one leg over the other and leaning towards the Guardians. Uldren was watching Sam again, Vincent noticed, but his expression he kept studiously blank. Sam acted as if the older man didn't even exist. "It is decided." Everyone's attention was turned to the Queen. "We will be in contact with your leaders shortly; for now, you may go."

They didn't need to be told twice. Sam turned on his heel, back ramrod straight as he led his team back the way they had come. Their guards fell into place around them and they headed for the hangar. They hardly breathed until they were back on the ship and headed safely on their way. Blink brought the ship into warp, and the team collectively sighed.

"And people call _me_ crazy," Emily chuckled breathily from her seat. Sam laughed at that, the tension easing from his shoulders with every moment they got further away from that strange place. Vincent was fairly sure his wound had bled all the way down to his knee, but said nothing. Siobhan had told him Emily had done a fine job and that there wasn't much she could do except give him a pain reliever to ease his discomfort. Of course, he'd forgotten to take one that morning and was now suffering the consequences of his lapse of memory. He shifted his hips to lessen the chance of getting blood all over Sam's nice seats, wincing as he did so.

"You doing okay, buddy?" Sam had leaned around the seat back just in time to catch Vincent's expression of pain. "If I could have had them hold off on this meeting for a few more days, you know I would have. But Zavala stressed just how important it was to have all three of us there exactly when they wanted us to be there. My hands were tied."

"It's alright, Sam. Just get us back to the Tower."

O.o.O.o.O

After she'd redressed his wound, Vincent had lounged around in the room, lying back on his bed with his arms propping his head up. Emily sat in the desk chair, dozing in the stillness of the quiet room. Sam had been called away for a report; the Vanguards wanted a full report on how the meeting had gone and what exactly had been said. Emily was content to let the Warlock handle the Vanguards, and instead cleaned and bandaged Vincent's injury.

It had bled through the bandage some, so the Titan had gone off to the shower to clean up before coming back to lay around and wait for Sam. Quite pleased with how her handiwork was holding up to all the abuse, Emily had nestled down into the chair and drifted in and out of sleep. It seemed like hours before Sam returned, pinching the bridge of his narrow nose between two fingers. Closing the door quietly, he walked into the room and plopped himself down on his bed, kicking his boots off as he went. Emily rubbed her face some to try and wake herself up and gave Sam her attention.

"Now what?" Vincent asked from where he lay sprawled across his bed. "Now," Sam replied, "we wait. The Queen has to contact the Vanguards with her decision, and then we go from there." Vincent and Emily shared a glance, Vincent shrugging when their gazes met. Sam seemed exhausted. The Warlock rolled onto his side without even bothering to take any of his clothes off and stared at the wall. Emily was worried about his darker mood, but she said nothing.

Gathering up her things, she bid the two men farewell for now, and headed to her room. Determined to get a shower before she fell asleep, she grabbed a towel and a change of clothes and headed for the showers. Too much downtime made her lazy, she knew, but between their collective injuries, there wasn't much she could do. Sleep while she could, or find something to do to keep her awake and busy. Stepping beneath the hot spray of water, she traced the scar on her left ribcage with shaking fingertips. The soothing sprinkle saturated her skin, spreading warmth throughout her body.

O.o.O.o.O

"Watch your left, there are six headed straight for you." From his vantage point high above the Shattered Coast, perched atop a crumbling building, Vandar-27 watched over his teammates. The Hunter was moving far left, using her speed to flank the group of enemies headed towards the Titan. When a Vandal got too close to the Titan for his comfort, Vandar sighted him down and squeezed the trigger of his sniper rifle, watching with a satisfied smirk as the Fallen enemy's head exploded in a shower of Ether.

Keeping tabs on the wild Huntress as she danced from enemy to enemy, he made sure none got close enough to do any real damage to the other member of his Fireteam. "Vandar, keep an eye out for that Captain. He should be here any time now."

"Copy that, Zevran." Sighting down his scope, the Exo scanned the edges of the firefight, watching for the Fallen Captain to appear. Just as the Huntress passed an abandoned building, the Captain ducked out of the ruined complex and made his entrance onto the scene. "Mirena, watch your six. The target just joined the party."

Her head whipped around, and he could picture the savage grin on her face as she rose to meet the challenge. Squaring off against the massive creature, she showed no fear though the beast stood at least three feet taller than her. She pulled the blades from the sheathes at her thighs and gave them a few twirls in her hands. Arc energy crackled down her arms to engulf the length of the blades, and Vandar turned his attention to the other Fallen.

Zevran was cutting through them, rounds blasting from his shotgun in rapid succession. The Titan was truly a force to be reckoned with, standing at almost six and a half feet tall. Trained for battle by his Volunteer father practically since he was born, the City Born Awoken decimated his enemies with ease. Vandar was jealous of the larger man's skill in close quarters, but relished the fact that the Titan couldn't hit the bullseye of a target at twenty paces. The Exo was quite content to hang back and let the Titan get dirty while he took out their enemies from afar. Checking in on Mirena, he was surprised to find the target already eliminated. The small woman was cleaning her blades off on the Captain's fur coat, looking for all the world like she could have kept fighting for hours more.

The set of her shoulders was relaxed and confident, and Vandar found himself grinning as well as an Exo could grin. After only a few days, the Hunter had made herself at home on their team, falling in line behind Zevran easily. He had seen her talent, and Vandar was confident he wouldn't let it go to waste. They were quite happy to let her take the lead if she wanted to, slicing through their foes as she went. She could be reckless, but between Zevran's skill and sheer strength and Vandar's expert shooting, they were content to let her wreak havoc wherever she went. They would clean up whatever mess she left behind.

When Zevran called the all clear, Vandar-27 began making his way down from his perch, rifle slung over his back. Mirena waited for them beside the corpse of the slain Captain. They had all been expecting a great deal more resistance to their arrival in the area, and had been surprised when only a few Vandals and half a dozen Dregs had challenged them. Too easy, Vandar thought. Much too easy. Mirena seemed to think the same thing.

"I thought there would be more," she stated. "We were told to expect heavy resistance, and this is what we get? Something isn't right."

"We'll alert Zavala when we return to the Tower," Zevran assured her. "For now, let's just get back." The Titan turned to leave, but stopped for a moment and turned back towards the Huntress. "Good work, Mirena. Just try not to bite off more than you can chew." On the heels of a compliment, the advice he gave was much easier to swallow. Ducking her head in acknowledgement, Mirena followed her new team to the extraction point and braced herself for transmat. Still puzzled by the lack of Fallen in the area to protect the territory they'd claimed, she buckled her harness and settled in for the ride home. Cayde would know what it meant, she told herself. He always did.


	14. Signs, Seasons, Days, and Years

**A/N: So i didnt proofread at all. Lazy 'Rellia is lazy. Forgive me for any mistakes in grammar/spelling. Thanks iFab for checking in and keeping me motivated lol. Truths are coming out, and we start the learning/healing process for both our wayward Guardians. Hang on for the ride, cuz it's gonna get _bumpy_ from here on out. I hope you guys enjoy it.**

"Hey." Her voice reached out to him from the darkness, and he turned to face the direction it had come from. The sun hadn't yet risen, and the Tower Plaza was bathed in the inky black of the moments just before dawn. In the east, the sky was just beginning to lighten. She came to a stop before him, her face shadowed by the hood she wore.

"Hey," he echoed back. Turning back to face the sunrise, she took a step forward until they were abreast and then settled in to watch. It had become their morning ritual, though they had never spoken of it. A silent agreement that they would meet each morning together, side by side in the face of the new day. Sam had never commented on the fact that Vincent was now beating him out of bed every morning instead of just occasionally. The Hunter barely made a sound, her breath silent as it hung on the still morning air.

When the first streaks of violent red made themselves visible between the deep violet clouds, she shifted her feet and sighed. "It's getting colder," she commented quietly, her voice soft in reverence of the spectacular array of color that washed across the sky. "It's been almost two years since I became a Guardian." Glancing at her from the corner of his eye, he stayed silent. She'd never offered up much information about her past, so he was perfectly content to just let her speak. Her next inhale was shaky, and he couldn't be sure if it was from strong emotion or the chilly air.

"It doesn't feel like it's been that long, y'know? It doesn't feel like I've been fighting aliens for over a year. It seems like just yesterday I was heading to the hospital for my shift, just another day in the life of me. Normal. Boring." A cloud of her breath drifted away on the slight breeze that had picked up just after the sun crested the horizon. For some reason, he could picture her with a cigarette stuck between her index and middle fingers, taking a long drag and flicking off the ash before she spoke again. "Sometimes I miss it. It may not have been the best life, but it was mine. For the most part, anyway."

She chuckled a bitter laugh, letting it fade away in the steadily brightening light. "So you were a doctor then?" he asked. Anything to keep her talking. Anything to keep her sharing. It had been a little over two months, and he still knew very little about her other than the fact that she wasn't comfortable around men. He and Sam seemed to be the only exceptions to that rule so far, and it puzzled him to no end.

"I was an O.R. nurse. It wasn't what I wanted to do per se, but my dad wanted me to carry on in the family business and I didn't want to spend my life in school to be a doctor, so I went the easier route. Doctors weren't in high demand back then anyway." Shifting her gaze out over the vast expanse of the City that sprawled out below them, he found his eyes fixed on hers. Sunlight reflected off the bright hazel, lighting them up in a way that mesmerized him so completely he almost didn't realize she was speaking again.

"Vince? You still in there?" Her gaze was locked onto his now, her mouth shaped into the most inviting smirk. He raised his eyebrows at her and spluttered an apology at which she laughed, the sound making the morning even brighter, despite the cloud cover. Rubbing at the nape of his neck just below where he'd tied his hair up, he offered another sheepish apology. "It's okay," she stated. "I just wonder where you go sometimes."

"Where I go?"

"Yeah. Sometimes when I look at you I can just tell you're… somewhere else. Lost in thought, I guess you could say. And I wonder where you go." The look in her eyes told him she had a pretty spot on idea of where he "went", but that she was respectful enough of his privacy that she wasn't going to pry. But she had shared with him, and it was his turn. Tit for tat, as they used to say.

"Usually I think about things that happened before I… Before I died." He glanced over at her, but her expression never changed. As he'd expected, she already knew, and probably had for some time. He continued. "Things my mum used to say, or how my sister used to drive me barking mad over the smallest things. Even though all we ever used to do was fight, I'd give anything to go back again just so she could give me a proper telling off like she used to."

Letting his train of thought run off the tracks, he gazed out at the Traveler. They stood in silence for a long time before Sam found them and dragged them off to breakfast. They spoke of trivial things like the weather and their recent missions, and Sam cracked jokes like he always did. Vincent enjoyed their banter. Now that Emily had gotten used to them, she tossed out the occasional jape herself. Despite their pretending like nothing had changed, that nothing important had been said, he didn't miss the fact that her eyes seemed to linger on him from time to time. When they finished eating they left the mess hall and headed to meet with the Vanguards. Sam had been hush hush about the reason for the meeting, only stating that they wouldn't need to suit up for a mission that day. When they arrived, there was another group of Guardians ahead of them. They stood back and quietly waited for the Vanguards to finish, but a sharp inhale from Sam drew Vincent's attention to the shorter man.

His eyes were locked on something in one corner of the room, and Vincent followed his gaze until he saw what the fuss was about. Unable to make out any concrete details due to the distance, he settled for taking in maroon hair and light grey skin of the Awoken woman leaning against the wall. She had the typical alien beauty of all the other Awoken women Vincent had met, but apparently Sam thought she was something special. Snapping his fingers in front of his friend's face, he grinned when Sam nearly jumped out of his skin. A sharp jab in the ribs was all the retaliation Sam could get in before the other Guardians were leaving and it was their turn to step forward.

Zavala looked them over with a serious expression held carefully in place. "Guardians," he started as he usually did. "You work in the Reef has paid off. The first wave of transfers have arrived, and as we speak several of our teams are preparing their jumpships for their time with the Awoken. You have made us all proud, and bring a great honor to the City." Zavala gestured to the corner of the room where the Awoken woman Sam had been ogling was posted up, and at his movement she started forward. Every movement she made screamed to Vincent that she was a predator; a Hunter in every right. Her eyes glowed a bright white and her lips were dyed an abysmal black. Wearing armour colored nearly the same shade as her hair, she had a short staff slung across her back. She studied each of them as they studied her.

"Astraeus, this is Akyra. She will be the fourth member of your fire team. I expect you to show her the respect she deserves as a fellow warrior. Take the day to get to know each other, and then report back tonight at 21:00 for your next instructions. Dismissed." Bewildered, the team turned to leave, their newest member falling into step beside them.

O.o.O.o.O

"So this in the infamous Tower, hm? It's bigger than I pictured it." Emily stood just behind and to Vincent's right, flanking him everywhere they went. They were currently standing at the railing, watching Akyra as she darted from place to place in excitement. After they'd introduced themselves, they'd offered to show the woman around the Tower. Ajax had received a dispatch from Cayde stating that due to space constraints, Akyra would be rooming with Emily for the time being. She could imagine him cackling as he had his Ghost send the message.

"Is there anything in particular you want to see?" Sam chimed in from Vincent's left. He was looking at Akyra like a man stranded in the desert might stare at an oasis he stumbled upon. It was almost pitiful to watch, but the Awoken woman didn't seem to notice. Her white eyes were wide as she struggled to take in all the sights. She was beautiful, Emily had to admit. She pressed closer to Vincent's side until she was almost touching him.

"Can we go to the City?" Her question was full of innocent, childlike wonder. Sam was on the verge of speaking when Vincent cut him off.

"I think it's best if we stay in the Tower for now." Sam cut his gaze upward at Vince but made no move to challenge him. "We can go to the City next time we get leave." Akyra pouted for a moment, her full bottom lip sticking out just a tad before she seemed to suck it up and head off again. Sam scurried after her, looking for all the world like some animal trying to win the affection of his choice female. Emily moved to follow them but a hand on her upper arm made her freeze. The urge to turn and break the person's arm was gone as quickly as it came, instinct overruled by caution. When she turned around, she was glad that caution had won. It was Vincent, his large hand gentle and warm, and he released her arm when he had her attention.

"How long have you known?" he asked. She thought back to their conversation that morning and assumed he was talking about him being Resurrected.

"Since you got here," she said, gaze fixed on the toe of her left boot. He didn't say anything for a while, but he didn't walk away either.

"Is that why you followed us?" Her eyes shot up to his, surprise written plainly across her face. "I wasn't sure it was you at first," he continued. "But when we were on Mars, about to go to the Black Garden, I thought there was something familiar about the way your cloak looked against the sand. You've been watching me this whole time, haven't you?"

Backing up a step, she examined his face for any signs of anger, but there were none. The urge to flee was almost overwhelming. Almost. She expected some sort of reprimand, but he didn't say anything but thank you.

"You saved our arses several times, and even though I find it odd I _am_ thankful you were there. We'd have gotten ourselves killed more likely than not." He looked her over for a moment longer and then turned to follow Sam and Akyra. Regaining her composure whilst scolding herself for think that she would somehow get away with keeping an eye on him without him noticing, she joined the others.

Akyra was full of energy and brightness. A free spirit, Emily thought, if ever there was one. Her upbringing had been relatively strict, and she had trained from a young age to use her battlestaff with deadly efficiency. Emily was curious to witness it in use against the enemies of the Light. After a visit to the Hangar to chat with Amanda Holliday about setting Akyra up with her own sparrow, they headed to the Tower North to show her the mess hall and where the Speaker spent all of his time. Emily kept quiet and observed the goings on, and it seemed to her like Vincent was doing the same. She thought back to their conversation that morning. After waking in a melancholy mood and showering off the leftover sleep she'd donned an old pair of jeans and the hoodie she usually wore when she wasn't in her armor. She'd found Vincent in their usual spot, and something had given her the urge to just say anything.

He hadn't seemed surprised by her former occupation; she'd patched him and Sam up several times in just the past few weeks when they'd needed it. She could only wonder if he suspected that she was Resurrected as well, but she didn't feel quite ready to open up about that. Someday, she vowed. Someday she would tell them both why she acted the way she did. Someday, she would explain everything. She longed to share her story, to air out the dark corners of her soul and be free again, but what would they think? Would she even be able to get the words out? Even after two years, the memories were still so _fresh_.

When she finally rejoined her companions in both mind and body, she heard a vigorous debate going on. Akyra had apparently suggested they spend a few hours sparring so she could get a feel for their fighting styles and integrate herself accordingly. Sam, love-struck, wholeheartedly agreed. Vincent on the other hand seemed less than pleased about the idea.

"It's a good idea, yes, but this is the first day off we've had in two weeks. I want to _rest,_ Sam, not spend the day knocking you on your arse."

"Aww, come on lazy bones! It'll be fun." Sam was staring intently at Vincent, but the larger man only raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest. Smirking, Emily glanced between the two, waiting for one of them to break. When it didn't seem like they were getting anywhere, Sam called in backup.

"Emily!" he said loudly as he turned his amber gaze on her. "What do you think we should do?"

"Ooooohhhh, no. You are _not_ dragging me into the middle of this. You boys can butt heads all you want." She tried taking a step back but Sam followed her. "You're a part of this team, aren't you? You have to weigh in." His eyes begged her to take his side. With his back turned to the others, he even mouthed _please_ at her and made a ridiculous pouting face. Rolling her eyes, she threw up her hands.

"Alright, alright. Yes, I thing sparring would be a good idea. Team building. Togetherness." She rolled her eyes again. "Whatever." Vincent heaved a sigh and hung his head, defeated. After a victory fist pump, Sam declared that they should head to their rooms to change into something more suitable and led them off towards the dorms. Akyra matched him stride for stride, gesturing animatedly about whatever they were discussing. When they reached Sam and Vincent's room, they split and Emily led Akyra towards what was now their room.

The Awoken woman's things had been deposited neatly on the top bunk, and Emily quickly did her best to straighten her bedsheets and tidy the room a bit. They spoke little, Akyra asking a few questions and Emily giving her the answers she sought. When they'd changed into workout gear, they headed back towards Sam and Vincent's room. Despite the chilly air outside, the boys were dressed in sleeveless shirts accompanied by sweatpants. Vincent wore mainly black, his shirt bearing two vertical stripes down the right side, one bright red and the other crisp white. Sam wore a white shirt with the Warlock logo plastered in the middle in vivid purple and pale grey sweats.

Akyra stuck out like a sore thumb in her bright lime-green sweat suit, but she didn't seem to care. Emily wore a similar getup, but in a darker grey. She pulled her hood up over her messy bun and shot an apologetic glance Vincent's way. He shrugged back, cracking his knuckles. Sam led them towards the fitness center, which was located across the way from the Infirmary. At this time of day, the place was deserted, with only a few Guardians occupying the equipment. To the left, a Hunter was jogging on one of the treadmills, his breath perfectly timed with each easy stride he took. On the other side of the room, two Titans were using the weightlifting equipment, one bench-pressing what looked like a truck load of weights, while the other was deadlifting close to three hundred pounds.

On the sparring mats, there were two Warlocks, grappling for control as they practiced hand to hand. From time to time, they would break apart to consult an ancient looking tome they'd left open on a nearby bench. Taking their place in one of the other unoccupied corners of the sparring area, Sam handed them each a pair of fingerless, padded gloves and a roll of tape. Emily wasted no time in preparing herself. She'd learned the hard way that padding her knuckles was a smart thing to do, and wound the tape around her wrists and between her thumb and pointer fingers. After everyone stretched out their muscles and double checked their tape, they were ready.

"Okay, so I think we should split off into two's to sort of warm up, and then swap partners. Maybe after that we can do a free for all?" After everyone agreed, they separated. Vincent dragged Sam away, making sure there was plenty of space between the two groups before giving Sam a light punch square in the jaw. Emily couldn't help the chortle that exploded out of her. The look of indignation on Sam's face was priceless, but it soon turned to a playful grin and the two were off, trading blows and cursing each other as they went.

Emily turned her attention to Akyra, who had also been watching the exchange. Reaching out a gloved fist, she waited until the maroon haired woman bumped it in return and then let loose with a few experimental jabs. Akyra dodged each one with inhuman speed, feinting left before throwing a high kick aimed right for Emily's head. She ducked just in time and threw a jab at Akyra's ribcage while she was left unprotected and then bounced away, keeping on the balls of her feet. She held her fists loosely, arms up and ready to block any incoming strikes. They went back and forth for a while, and Akyra proved to be a formidable match. She landed several hits in rapid succession, all of which Emily was unable to block. Breathless, the women fell apart, taking a moment to calm down and catch their breath.

"You're fast," Emily commented. She had to hand it to the other woman; she was sorely outmatched. "You're not so bad yourself," Akyra replied. "I may be fast, but I can't hit as hard as you. You really knocked the wind out of me there," she said, referencing a wild left Emily had thrown in a desperate attempt to end the onslaught of attacks made by her opponent. Emily grinned and turned to see how Sam was faring against Vincent.

It didn't seem to be going well. Sam was lithe and quick, but Vincent had significantly longer reach and was able to keep out of range while still delivering heavy hits. Sam was pouring sweat as he spun and dodged. Emily winced when Sam managed to land a hit against Vincent's right side. She knew the bones had healed, but every once in a while after a long day out on patrol she would catch him pressing a hand to the old wound, and she couldn't help but wonder if the broken ribs hadn't healed properly. The hit didn't seem to faze him though, or he had gotten better at hiding his pain. Sam took the opportunity to try and move inside, to get where Vincent's longer arms wouldn't provide him with such an advantage, but Vince saw through his maneuver. Waiting for Sam to throw another punch, Vincent went low, grabbing the Warlock's legs and snatching them from underneath him.

When the indigo haired man was finally able to breathe again, he burst out laughing. "You weren't lying, I'll give you that. And I deserve it," he said between fits of laughter. Taking Vincent's offered hand, the Warlock let himself be pulled up by his friend. He took a seat on a nearby bench and wiped the sweat from his face. Vincent's arms and face were coated in a light sheen of sweat but he seemed to be in much better shape than Sam, who was heaving for breath and chugging water.

"Nice try," Emily told Sam, winking at him. "Next time don't provoke the sleeping giant."

"I'd like to see you last longer than I did," Sam challenged. Grinning, Emily glanced over at Vincent, who shrugged and then began to shake out his shoulders to loosen them up. Moving off to the side, she adopted a fighting stance and waited. Vincent did the same, mirroring her pose almost exactly. After a few seconds, she threw a light jab, wanting to catch him off guard, but he was ready for her. Deflecting her punch with his left arm, she realized her chest was open too late. Before she could feint to the side and escape to regain her posture he was throwing his left arm at her again, making solid contact with the right side of her ribs. She knew he was pulling his punches; she'd seen him in action, and she did _not_ , for any reason, want to get caught on the receiving end of one of his strikes at full strength. Regardless of that fact, it _hurt_. She danced away on the balls of her feet, rethinking her strategy.

He followed her, backing her into the corner and using his size to keep her there. She tried to duck under his arm and get behind him, but he saw her coming halfway through and shifted his feet to meet her. In doing so, he brought them closer together and allowed her to get on the inside. Realizing his mistake as the first of her flurry of blows landed square on his diaphragm, he backed away a bit and placed an open palm on the top of her head, pushing her away. Sam's snort of laughter could be heard from the edge of the mat, but the two combatants couldn't be bothered by it. Sweat was dripping from every pore, and her clothes clung uncomfortably to her form, but Emily pushed all distractions from her mind.

They traded blows for a bit, and Vincent's movements got slower and slower. He was still able to block most of her blows, but he was nowhere near as quick about it as he had been at the start. Flinging a kick at his left side, he caught her leg with both hands as it impacted and held it tight to his side. Severely off balance and with only one leg holding her up, she hopped on one foot to get herself as righted as possible and then threw a punch at his face, sending all of her strength behind it. He pinned her leg tighter against him with his left arm, and when the punch came he caught it with his right. Using his considerable strength, he hefted her off the ground and pinned her against the wall.

For a split second, panic threatened to take control. He was too close, too _close_ , and she couldn't get away, and she didn't have the strength to push him off and _oh God it's happening again…_ And then he let her go. She slid down the wall, hands shaking as she balled them into fists and gasped for breath. Vincent backed away far enough to give her some space.

"Ha! That was awesome," Sam was shouting. "You guys are like a perfect match. That was damn close, so we'll call it a draw." He turned to Akyra and they began to chatter excitedly, but their voices drifted away and were drowned out by the sound of her pounding heart. Vincent's face swam into her vision as he knelt in front of her, eyes hard but full of worry. She met his gaze, ashamed at the tears that were threatening to spill. Sucking in a shaky breath, she blew it out slowly, trying to calm herself down. It had been a long time since she'd had a panic attack like that.

"You alright?" His concern was almost palpable. She nodded, trying to put on a brave face and failing miserably. She took a few seconds more to compose her face and get her breathing under control. When she was ready, she nodded again, as if she could make it all go away if she would just stand up. Vincent straightened and held out a hand for her. She looked at it for a while before she reached out and took it, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

"We're done for the day," Vincent called to Sam and Akyra. He positioned himself between them and Emily, shielding her with his broad shoulders and giving her a little more time to gather herself. "I think I got a little too carried away there."

Sam's voice chimed in, sounding worried. "You guys okay? We'll come wit-"

"Fine, Sam. Just winded. You two stay here and have fun. We'll see you later." Vincent was edging them towards the door as he spoke, and Emily caught a glance at Sam. He was obviously troubled and made to follow them anyway, but a look from Vincent stopped him in his tracks. A light seemed to come on in Sam's mind, and he agreed. He may not have been happy about it, but he knew enough to realize when Vincent was being serious about something and he needed to do as he was told.

Their team dynamics were odd compared to the other Guardians, but it worked for them. Sam was the undisputed leader, but he was willing to take suggestions and advice from his teammates, and for that they were stronger than the others. There were times when he would challenge or question his friends, and times he knew to let them take control. And he was trusting Vincent to know what the right thing to do was. In the beginning, Emily had been anxious about being put on a team, but Cayde knew her well and had watched Sam and Vincent for quite some time. He knew what he was doing, and Emily was glad for that.

After they left the training room, Vincent led her back to the dorms and to her room. She had calmed down considerably by the time they got there, but Ajax insisted on scanning her brain waves to ensure everything was alright. Vincent paced by the door until the little Ghost was finished and had moved away again. Emily sat perched on the side of her bed, unmoving throughout the process. Kneeling on the carpet before her, Vincent studied her face for a while before speaking.

"I'm sorry I hurt you," he said softly. Shame burned in his eyes. Emily shook her head, appalled that he thought he'd injured her. "I'm fine," she said. "You didn't hurt me." His skeptical gaze spoke volumes. "I just…" She sighed. "I get flashbacks sometimes. Really, I'm fine." Silence for sever minutes as he studied her some more. She couldn't meet his eyes; the concern that showed so honestly in those honey brown orbs was breaking her.

"You're not a volunteer, are you?" And there it was. The question she knew would come at some point. Vincent wasn't a stupid man, and she'd known they would figure it out eventually. Even if she didn't want anyone to know, ever. But she couldn't hide it any longer, and of all people, Vincent deserved the truth. He would understand everything. She shook her head, tears welling in her eyes again.

"Ajax brought me back almost two years ago. I was pretty messed up at first. After a few months of us living in the wild he sent a distress call to Cayde. He found us. Brought me back and got me all cleaned up. Told me all these stories about Guardians, and the battle between Light and Dark, and made me feel human again." She chuckled, the sound coming out watery around her unshed tears. "I don't think he'd ever seen anything like me. But he took care of me, made sure I was always by myself because of my trust issues. Cayde was the only thing here besides Ajax that I knew wouldn't stab me in the back."

She glanced up to find Vincent staring blankly at a wrinkle in the sheet on her bed. It was a lot to process, she knew, and she couldn't help the fear that he would turn away and walk through that door and never come back. She told herself he wouldn't, he was a better man than that. Deep down, she knew he wouldn't go. Not unless she told him to. After a few deep breaths, he turned his gaze to her again.

"I understand wanting secrecy about all this. You know I do. But I want you to know that if you ever just want to get anything of your chest, I'm here. You can talk to me about anything you want. And if you don't want to, well, I understand that too. Either way, I'll be here if you need me."

She knew she needed to talk to someone about what happened, but she wasn't quite ready. When she was, she knew he'd be there. They would help each other through this mess that was their second life, and they would be stronger for it.


	15. Give Light Upon the Earth

**A/N: Okay so we all know by now that I'm not good at writing action, and I feel like that takes up a lot of this chapter. Which is why it took me so long. UGH. Anyway, thanks for everyone out there reading and reviewing and all that awesome stuff. You guys ROCK. So here's another chapter. Hope you like it, please drop a review and let me know what you think.**

Sam was irritated. Vincent had come back from seeing to Emily in a rather cryptic mood, and hadn't said much about what had transpired between them. He hadn't seen Emily since Vincent had herded her from the training room, shielding her with his much larger frame. He'd been worried at first, of course, but the worry had calmed some when Vincent had arrived with news that their strange Hunter would be fine. She just needed some time. After his worry faded, the anger seeped in. How could he have missed the fact that something was wrong until it was almost too late? Distracted by a beautiful face, he'd completely ignored his friends. How _selfish._

Determined to speak with Emily in private, he led his team to the Tower Hanger the next morning with purpose in his stride. Emily followed behind them, bringing up the rear as she normally did. Sam had had Blink prep his ship earlier that morning while the team had been eating, and _The Birth of History_ sat moored alongside Vincent's _Vienna Singer._ Since they'd added a new member, taking one jumpship was no longer an option. As they came to a stop before the two ships, Vincent and Emily grouped themselves nearer to Vincent's ship. Akyra seemed to sense that something was up, but she said nothing.

"Alright, so. The Vanguards have given us a pretty laidback challenge for our first mission with the addition of our new member. Sounds laidback, at least, but I guess we'll find out when we get there. Because of our new partnership with the Reef, we'll be helping them out in bring the House of Wolves and their Kell, Skolas, down for the Queen." Vincent shifted his weight to his left leg and crossed his arms over his chest. Sam often forgot just how big he really was until they got fully geared up and Vince turned into a walking behemoth. He'd come a long way in the months since Sam had known him. "We're heading to Venus to find this Skolas, and hopefully we'll be back in time for dinner. Emily, you're with me for the ride over."

Her surprise was evident. The Hunter glanced at Vincent before reluctantly moving towards _The Birth of History_. Once Vincent and Akyra were safely aboard the _Vienna Singer_ , Sam and Emily were transmatted into his ship by their Ghosts. He stayed quiet while they got situated, buckling in to their seats while Blink powered up the ship and they waited for all the systems to warm up. Pretending not to notice the fact that Emily was practically staring a hole in the back of his head, he hummed a tune to himself.

"All ready?" he asked over the team comms channel. After Vincent's affirmation was received Blink brought the ship up and out of the hangar, setting a course for Venus and engaging the warp drive. After a moment of watching space swirl by outside, Sam swiveled in his chair and got as close to facing Emily as he could. She was watching him with guarded eyes, face carefully arranged into a mask of neutral indifference.

"I'm sorry, Em." He sighed. Her eyes lost their hard edge and her brows knit together, confusion coming through in the slight downward turn of the corners of her mouth. "I was being really selfish yesterday and I feel terrible for not noticing you were hurt until Vincent was rushing you out of the room. I'm an ass, and I wanted to apologize for it."

"I wasn't hurt, Sam." Emily's voice carried easily over the whirring of various computers and servos. As quiet as she was, she knew how to make herself heard, and he admired that. There was a backbone under all that angry nervousness. "I just… I had a moment, and I needed some air. Vincent only noticed because he was right there in my face. Honestly, I'm fine." Being a Hunter, she was a fairly talented liar. That being said, Sam knew his team mates. There was an air of tired resignation about her, from the stiff set of her shoulders to the shadows lurking just beneath her eyes. She wasn't ready to talk to him, and that was okay. She didn't have to as long as she had someone else to confide in. He hoped she and Vincent had grown close enough that they could share their burdens, but he wasn't quite ready to pry that deeply yet.

Emily's penchant for hanging around Vincent was evident even to most strangers. It was like the Titan had some sort of gravitational pull; he was the Earth and she his moon. They had more in common than met the eye, but Sam had especially keen eyes. He knew Emily had secrets. Everyone did. She would tell him if she ever got ready. "You sure you're alright? You can stay on the ship if you need to."

"I'm coming with you," she stated. An ember sparked to life in her tired hazel eyes, and she sat a little straighter in her seat. "I told you, I'm fine."

Sam held his hands up in a defensive gesture. "Okay, okay. You win. Just…let me know if you ever need to talk, okay?" He gave her an earnest look before turning around to face the windshield again, buckling his harness across his torso again. "So what did you take from sparring yesterday? About Akyra?"

Emily was quiet for a bit, thinking over her answers. "She's fast," she finally said. "She doesn't leave many openings, but she favors kicking over using her hands. It puts her at risk of losing her balance."

"Or being caught and thrown up against a wall," Sam quipped, chuckling. He turned to glance back just in time to see Emily's cheeks turn a rosy shade of red as she glared at the hull of the ship. He let it slide. "What about when you fought Vincent?"

She was quicker to respond this time. "He hits hard, and is fairly quick for his size. He prefers defensive maneuvers over offense, which is kind of a given seeing as his Super is a giant bubble shield. It's his nature. That being said, he doesn't quite have the stamina we do. If he had to fight hand-to-hand all the way through every mess we got into, he'd be in trouble. Thankfully our guns do most of the work."

"Very true. I think we'd all be in trouble without the guns though, not just Vincent. I know I don't have the stamina to do that all day." He let the conversation fall away, the hum of the engines filling the small space. Before too long, they jerked out of warp space, the little ship lurching hard at the sudden loss of speed. "Aaaand here we are."

The yellow-green cloud cover gave the planet a sort of sickly hue, but the Guardians weren't fooled. They knew that beneath lay a jungle paradise. If only it weren't crawling with Vex and Fallen, it would be perfect. Blink brought the ship down to the surface, feathering the throttles to keep it hovering just above the ground, and then they transmatted out. Vincent and Akyra followed suit shortly after, and soon all four Guardians of fire team Astraeus were ready for action. Sam did a double take at Akyra, who was positioning her staff on her back. She also carried a pistol and an automatic rifle, but the staff was most interesting to him.

Sidling over towards her, he reached a hand out to touch the dark metal, but his hand met resistance before he could make contact. Akyra's thin fingers were wrapped around his wrist, and he was fairly sure the look she was giving him would have melted him on the spot if her helmet hadn't been shielding him from the brunt of the attack.

"Do _not_. Touch. The staff." The warning in her voice was clear. Sam eased away from her and she released his wrist.

"Okay, sorry, sorry." Feeling Vincent's amused gaze, he turned to his friend and shrugged. Vincent only shook his head, shoulders shaking in a silent chuckle. They grouped up, forming a loose diamond formation. Sam led, with Vincent on his right and Akyra on his left. Emily trailed along in the drag position. The Ghosts fed them telemetry straight to their heads up displays, leading them towards their objective. After a few minutes of walking, they came upon a group of four heavy pikes, seemingly left behind or forgotten by the Fallen. Debating for a moment, Sam finally waved his team forward.

"We may as well use what's given to us. Has anyone driven one of these things before?" After receiving negative answers, he shrugged. "Oh well. Can't be too different from a sparrow, right?" Acting more confident than he really felt, he swung his leg over one of the vehicles and started it. The pike roared to life with a throaty grumble and settled quickly to a low idle, and gradually the others followed suit. It took a moment to find the throttle control and the brake, but Sam had studied the Fallen since he was a child, and gained his bearings fairly quickly. Giving quick directions to the others, they sped on their way along the dusty trail.

O.o.O.o.O

Absorbed in trying to drive the foreign vehicle instead of wreck it, Emily very nearly crashed into Vincent when he stopped short in front of her. Stomping hard on the breaks, the heavy pike barely stopped in time. Vincent didn't even look behind him; his gaze was fixed ahead. Following the line of his eyes, Emily discovered why they had stopped so suddenly. A Fallen Walker lay in their path, painted brilliant blue and silver to denote that it belonged to the House of Wolves.

The Fallen had a major advantage over the four Guardians. The mountain pass they had been following opened up into a wide chamber, almost perfectly circle around the edges. There were two jagged rock formations reaching up as if to split the sky, and the Wolf Walker was nestled neatly in between them. Trapped in a funnel with no cover, Emily's stomach did a flop. More Fallen would appear. Of that, she was certain. They needed a plan.

"Okay guys," Sam said, dismounting. "I know this looks bad, but we've got this. Akyra, Emily," he said as he faced the two women. "You can stay on the pikes if you want, but you two will be in charge of keeping the ground troops off of Vincent and I while we focus on bringing down that Walker. In the lulls between waves, you two can give us a hand. Sound like a plan?"

Emily nodded, watching Vincent and Akyra do the same. Getting off the heavy pike, she pulled her rifle from her back, checked the magazine, and chambered a round before relaxing into low ready. Her heart thumped a steady beat in her chest. After nearly two years, she'd grown accustomed to the adrenaline rush that came in the seconds before battle. She breathed deeply, saturating her muscles with oxygen in preparation for the long haul.

To her left, Akyra shook her arms out and rolled her head in a circle, loosening the tense muscles in her neck and shoulders. She looked nervous, but chose to remain on her pike for now. When Sam was certain everyone was ready, he waved them forward and charged out toward the Walker. Its hulking footsteps shook the ground around them but Emily paid no mind. Half her attention was on where she placed her feet on the uneven ground, and the other half was listening to Ajax as he kept up a steady tirade of information and enemy movements.

Before they got halfway to the walker, Shanks and Dreg poured out from the passage ahead and flanked the heavy metal beast. Couching her rifle against her shoulder she took aim, fired, and smirked at the explosion of ether that went up from the Dreg she'd destroyed. Akyra was circling the Walker, her pike's shock cannons blasting away their enemies. Emily concentrated on covering Sam and Vincent while they hammered away at the bug-like tank. It took a few minutes, but she and Akyra thinned the enemies' numbers until there was only one Dreg left. Akyra hopped off her pike and drew her pistol. Firing the massive gun twice in rapid succession, the Dreg fell face first into the dirt.

With that, the women turned their attention to the Walker and laid into it. Focusing on its front right leg they put round after round into the armored metal until in a shower of sparks and shrapnel, the leg gave way. Overheated, the neck of the beast extended to expose the red hot power core to the cooler air outside. More Fallen came scrambling from the passage ahead, this time with Vandals added to the mix. Reloading, Emily spun away from the most immediate danger and took cover behind one of the rock pillars, back pressed closely against the cool stone. Akyra was somewhere to her right, and after a quick glance over her shoulder, she spotted the Awoken woman dodging fire from a very pissed-off looking Vandal.

Sighting through her scope, Emily aimed carefully at the Vandal and fired. The bullet struck the four-armed alien in the left side of his chest, throwing him off balance for a few steps until he finally fell, bleeding heavily, and did not rise. Akyra gave her a thumbs up in thanks before moving into cover herself. It was a good thing she had, because another swarm of Fallen was moving into the arena. Sam and Vincent were still pounding away at the Walker, and had two more of its legs crippled. Knowing it would only stay functional for a little while longer, Emily turned back to her side of the fight. Her sniper rifle wouldn't do any good in such close quarters combat, but she still had a few tricks up her sleeve.

Pulling a smoke bomb from a pouch at her belt and drawing her knife from its sheath, she bolted from cover and headed toward the pack of aliens. Halfway to the closest Dreg, she threw the smoke bomb at her feet and waited the few seconds it took for the cloud to engulf her. When she knew she'd vanished from sight, she feinted right and dodged around the Dreg until she was squarely behind him. Using a technique Cayde had taught her just after she'd arrived at the tower, she stomped forcefully on the back of the Dreg's right leg just below the knee. The creature crumpled before her and she quickly drew her knife across its throat.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Akyra darting toward the crowd of Fallen, pulling the black staff from her back as she flew over the uneven ground. Just before she reached the first enemy she came to, her hands began to glow with crackling Arc energy. The electricity flowed along the length of the dark metal, and after an experimental twirl she struck out at the Vandal. Caught mostly unaware, the Vandal couldn't do much more than raise his arm against the onslaught. When the staff crashed into his arm, his entire body stiffened. Hearing a sharp crack, Emily knew the arm was broken. Spinning away in a flurry of dark fabric Emily slashed at the nearest Dreg, catching him across the chest. With a shriek, both the Vandal and the Dreg fell, one dead and one badly injured.

Emily drew her rifle again and put the Dreg out of its misery. An explosion rocked the ground, nearly sending Emily sprawling on her face. Managing to stay upright, she turned to find that the Walker had been destroyed and the two men had turned their attention to the ground troops. When she turned her attention back to the fight, Akyra had worked up a rhythm and was dancing through the group of Fallen, leaving a trail of bodies in her wake. Dumbfounded, Emily could only watch as the woman moved from one to the next, her strikes agile and precise. The Arc energy almost had a life of its own, often leaping from the smooth metal of the staff and striking her opponents before the staff itself even touched them.

Within a matter of a few minutes, the Awoken woman had decimated the entire force of enemies, 9 Vandals and Dregs left lying in the dust behind her. When she finally came to a stop her chest heaved. Reflections of the Arc light glinted off her pale blue armor until the energy faded and then vanished entirely and the staff returned to its normal, dormant state. Straightening from her half crouched position, Akyra replaced the staff in its resting place slung across her back.

Emily had to admit she was impressed. The woman was almost like a Bladedancer in the way that she moved, but her style was focused less on grace and more on sheer force. It was mesmerizing to watch. When Akyra turned to face them, she was almost positive the woman wore a smug smile on her pretty face. Sam stepped forward from where he'd stopped just off Emily's left.

"That was amazing," he gushed. "I've never seen anything like it! It looks like your staff amplifies your natural power instead off feeding off of it like they do with our Hunters. I mean, I've always thought Bladedancers were really cool, but this was on a different level. I wonder how it works? There's got to be some sort of…" Sam continued on like this for some time, but Emily tuned him out. Yes, it was impressive, but she was focusing on catching her breath and taking stock of any injuries her teammates had suffered.

From her initial visual inspection everyone seemed to be just fine, and her mind calmed enough for her to release the tension that always lingered after a fight. The day was far from over, but for now, she could relax. Vincent was standing off to the side, listening to am go on and on about energy manipulation and could he possibly look over her staff sometime when they were back at the tower?

"Perhaps," Akyra replied. Amusement colored her voice. "The Dark-bolt has been passed down from father to son for as long as my family has had a name. It's very precious to me. I'd hate to have to kill you if you break it."

"Oh I understand completely, I'll be very…wait. Father to son?" Sam paused his tirade for a moment. Akyra shifted her feet, crossing her arms over her chest.

"The Dark-bolt should have gone to my brother, but he didn't choose the life of a warrior. I had already been training for a few years, and my father felt I was a worthy successor even though I had never truly been tested. Just before he died, he passed the staff to me, breaking a tradition that had been hundreds of years in the making."

Sam was silent for at least a full thirty seconds, and even then all he could utter was a hushed "wow." Emily rolled her eyes, chuckling. Sam, from time to time, could be a very typical Warlock. His curiosity and overactive mind could get the best of him.

"I don't mean to rain on this parade, but we should probably get moving." Vincent hadn't spoken much all morning, but Emily agreed. They had a job to do; questions about Akyra's odd weapon could wait. Sam, nodding his head but remaining thoughtful, took the lead as they made their way forward. Everything was quiet for the most part, but Emily kept her eyes open and her rifle ready.

Following the winding pass, they eventually came upon a raised platform that had seemingly been built into a low cliff wall. It was the only way forward, and when Sam hit his jump jets to get up onto the platform, the others followed. Once they all had reached the top, Sam again moved forward. Emily, seeing movement ahead, readied her rifle and called a warning to the others. "Heads up, guys."

Around the bend ahead of them, several Shanks and Dreg patrolled the area. Behind them hovered a Wolf High Servitor. Having just taken down a Walker, Emily felt their odds were fairly promising. Lining up a shot on one of the Shanks closer to the group, she waited a moment until she heard Sam's automatic rifle spewing rounds and then squeezed the trigger. Within seconds, most of their opposition had been cut down, and the Servitor was heading towards them.

It fired a Void energy blast from its eye, causing the Guardians to duck for cover. Checking to make sure the other, lesser enemies weren't trying to flank her team. Aiming for a Dreg, she put a round in its chest cavity and watched it fall. Two Dreg were left, and four or so Shanks buzzed around the Servitor. Slipping back behind the metal panel she was using for cover, she took a moment to gather herself and then looked to her left to where Vincent was hunkered down beside her.

He was just sitting there, back against the panel and looking for all the world like he was asleep. His left leg was bent at the knee, and the other was folded to make most of a triangle and lay nearly flat against the ground. Head resting on the panel behind him, he looked as relaxed as a man could get while being shot at by alien beings on a planet that, in his day, had never been explored. Emily nudged him with her elbow. His head tilted toward her, but he said nothing.

"You alright?" she asked him.

"Yeah, fine. Those two," he gestured behind her, "seem like they have everything pretty much covered. Thought I'd have a kip."

Sure enough, when she looked Emily found that Sam and Akyra really _did_ have everything under control. All the foot soldiers had been taken care of, and now they were taking turns whittling away at the Servitor. Thinking that Vincent had the right idea, she sat down next to him and stretched out her legs. It felt good to extend them after crouching for so long. She focused on slowing her breathing and tried to relax every muscle she could, starting at her finger tips and working her way in. By the time she got to her shoulders, the gunfire had stopped.

She stood, dusted the dirt off her butt, and turned to offer Vincent a hand. His hand dwarfed hers, but his grip was gentle and he did most all of the work, leaving her standing there and blushing inside her helmet while she simply held his hand while he got to his feet. Releasing her hand after he straightened, he stretched his back and arms.

"Were you guys really just sitting there while we did all the work?" Sam's incredulous voice asked over the team's comm channel.

Vincent chuckled. "You two can sit out the next round, yeah? Besides, you didn't need our help. You guys work really well together."

Akyra shifted her feet, her icy blue armor glinting in the sunlight. Sam didn't say anything. Instead, he marched right up to Vincent and jabbed his middle finger up at his face mask. Vincent burst out laughing, unable to keep his composure. Sam walked away, muttering about how this was supposed to be a team effort, but stupid lazy Titans tended to ruin things anyway.

The others fell in behind him and they continued on their way, following their slightly peeved leader as he stomped his way down the dusty trail. Emily was still grinning after the exchange. It took her a moment to realize that right then, she was the happiest she'd ever been since waking up and being thrust into this second life. It had taken nearly two years, but with a little help from the right people, she was actually _glad_ to have been given this second chance. Her memories would always haunt her, but maybe now she could finally start to heal.


	16. Two Great Lights

"Shit, that's a big dude!" Sam exclaimed as he ducked behind a nearby rock for cover. After they'd gone down through several winding tunnels, the team had come upon a door. It had opened as soon as they approached to reveal a very large, very _angry_ Skolas. Pulling his cannon from his back, he fired continuously at the Guardians, forcing them to take cover wherever they could find it. Luckily, there were plenty of boulders strewn about.

Sam peeked over the rock he was using for cover and then ducked back down. From where he sat, huddled behind one of the larger rock formations, Vincent watched his friend carefully. Sam seemed to weigh his options for a moment, brows creasing as he thought. Seeming to have come to a decision, he met Vincent's eyes.

"Be ready. When I yell, hit him with everything we've got." Nodding, Vincent checked his rifle briefly and then ducked quickly out of cover to try and locate Skolas without getting himself blown to pieces. From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of bright gold. Sam had activated his Super, and his radiance was nearly blinding. With a shout, Sam leapt from cover, tossing grenades at the Fallen Kell as frequently as he was able. Taking that as his sign to move, Vincent rounded the corner and brought his rifle to his shoulder, firing as rapidly as he thought sensible. From her spot to his right, Emily did the same, and Akyra followed shortly after. Under the onslaught, Skolas roared. Bullets pelted his armor and before the Guardians realized, his shields went down with a sputtering hiss. To say that he was furious was an understatement. With a flash of his furred cloak, the Kell retreated.

The silence in the moments after his departure was nearly deafening after the roar of gunfire. Vincent turned to Sam just in time to see his shoulders slump with exhaustion. It had been a long day, and it wasn't over yet.

"Is that it?" Sam asked. Akyra shook her head. "He may be gone for now, but he'll be back. And next time, it won't be so easy." Taking a deep breath, Sam straightened from his hunched position and hailed Ikora over the radio.

"Ikora, he's gone. He must have retreated to his ship. Should we try and follow?"

"No. There will be another chance. For now, just get home safely, Guardian. You've done well."

Sam waited until the comm line went dead before speaking again. "We did well? We did _well?_ He got away!" Akyra stepped to his side, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder. "She's right though Sam," she said. "We will get another chance. We just might have to wait a while for the right moment." Sam sighed, nodding. Vincent knew the Warlock was angry, but there was nothing they could have done. Evie and Blink brought their ships down to hover in front of the team, and one by one the transmatted onboard.

The ride home was mostly silent, as was the ride over. For Vincent, it was only slightly awkward, but he could tell Akyra was uncomfortable. "Do you miss your home?" he asked her. The Hunter shifted in her seat and cleared her throat.

"Sort of. I miss my family more than anything. It was hard to leave them behind, but I'll see them again. What about you? Do you miss your home?"

The question, innocent as it was, stirred up a sadness he wasn't sure he would ever leave behind. To him, home was the two story farm house surrounded by cornfields and thick forests. Home was his mother cooking fresh laid eggs and thick cut bacon on the stove every morning for breakfast because that was what his father liked most. Home was his little sister screaming in delight when the frog she'd caught squirmed between her muddy fingers. Home was warm sunshine and fresh air and snowy winters and… and it was gone. His home had been destroyed a long time ago.

"Yeah," he answered simply. "I do."

Not missing a beat, Akyra kept right on with the conversation. "The Tower is nice, though. And the City seems like it would be fun to explore. Lots of people and activity. Have you been to the City since you became a Guardian?"

Technically, he had never actually been to the City. But Akyra didn't know he was Resurrected, and he wasn't sure he wanted her to know. He'd never had many dealings with the Reef-born Awoken, aside from their visit with the Queen, and he wasn't sure how she would react to the news. As they exited warp and re-entered Earth's atmosphere, he shrugged and told her they hadn't really had time. After that, the conversation died away. Though the mission had been tiring, it had only taken them four or five hours to complete. Half the day remained, and hopefully the Vanguards wouldn't stick them with a patrol or something of the kind. As she ship docked in the hangar and they prepared to transmat out, Sam hailed them over the team channel.

"We need to go debrief and see what other plans we have for the day. Hopefully they give us the afternoon off, but just in case we'll stick together and stay in our gear until we know for sure."

As soon as their feet hit the metal flooring, they were off. They stuck together, moving through the Tower towards the Hall of Guardians. When they arrived, only Ikora was there, stooped over the low table and flipping the pages of an old book with utmost care. She spared them a quick glance and a nod before turning back to the book and folding it closed. Facing the team, the Warlock cocked one hip and propped her fist on it, looking at them all from beneath dark lashes.

"So, the Kell of Kells fled from four puny Guardians, did he? You all must have really scared him." The dark skinned woman chuckled, and Emily shifted her feet. "Never fear. He will return, and _then_ we will have him. Are there any injuries to report?" Sam glanced around at his team, and at their negative replies Ikora straightened before them. "Very well. Your team has leave tomorrow, but the next day you will go hunting again. I suggest you use this time to rest, and prepare. Good afternoon, Guardians."

Not one to look a gift sparrow under the hood, Sam turned and ushered his team from the room. When they were once again wreathed in sunshine, Akyra nearly launched herself at Sam, begging to visit the City. From his place a few feet away, he could see Sam warring with himself as to what to tell her. They were all tired, but with the afternoon and the following day to themselves, it seemed too good an opportunity to waste.

"We could pop down for a few hours, Sam." After all, Vincent had never been to the City himself, and he figured it was about time. "Just to have a look around. We don't have to go far," he added. Sam didn't really have a choice after that. He shot Vincent a grin.

"Alright. Let's go get changed."

O.o.O.o.O

The streets were crammed full of people as they went about their business. Every so often, the four Guardians would pass a door that was open to the sidewalk, with clusters of teenagers and young adults waiting in lines that reached to the end of the block. Echoing bass thrummed out of the open doorways, strobe lights flashing within. Every time they passed one of these clubs, Akyra would try her damnedest to drag Sam up to the bouncer to beg entrance, but Sam would plant his feet and refuse. After a while, she quit trying and would only throw a pouty look in his direction.

Vincent was surprised at how many clubs there were in the area, but Emily informed him that the City was laid out this way for a reason. When the Guardians came down from the Tower, the first thing they went looking for was a little bit of fun. There were clubs, bars, cinemas, restaurants and various other entertainment complexes situated close to the base of the Tower and at easy access to the warriors of the Light.

Vincent was slightly overwhelmed. He hadn't been around this many people even _before_ he'd died. City life was something totally foreign to him. Emily seemed a little more at home with the noise and bustle, but kept looking over her shoulder as if she was watching to see of someone was following her. After an hour of this behavior, Vincent began checking as well, just to be sure. When she noticed, she shot him a sheepish half smile and tried to relax. Akyra finally managed to convince Sam to stop, and the four of them entered a small bar.

The interior was dim, with so many posters and signs decorating the walls that there was no blank space left. Settling down in the barstools, Vincent eyed the various alcoholic beverages stocked behind the counter. A few minutes after their arrival, time Akyra spent marveling wide-eyed at all the decorations and quiet patrons, the bartender shuffled over to them. He was a heavy set man with dark hair and a light scruff framing his jaws.

"What can I get ya?" he questioned in a gruff voice. Akyra beamed at the man and ordered the sweetest drink the bar offered. Sam asked politely for a beer. When the man eyed Emily, she quietly requested a shot of top shelf vodka. Finally, it was Vincent's turn. His parents had never allowed him to drink, but he'd read a few books where the characters had gone to bars, so he ordered the only thing that he could remember clearly. "Whisky, rocks."

Nodding, the bartender shuffled off and began preparing their drinks. Emily and Sam's came first, the small shot glass filled to the brim with a clear liquid. Sam's beer was a frothy gold, and after his first sip the Warlock groaned in pleasure. Vincent started to second-guess his choice of beverage. Vincent's came next, a dark amber colored liquor with three large ice cubes clinking around in the glass. Akyra's beverage was the most complicated to make, but was interesting to say the least. The alcohol base was vodka, but it was mixed with a cherry flavored syrup, banana liqueur, and blended together with vanilla ice cream. The rim of the glass was dipped in chocolate syrup. The end result was a pinkish colored mixed drink topped with whipped cream, two slices of banana, and a cherry.

"What _is_ that?" Sam's face was twisted up into a grimace as he eyed Akyra while she took a sip of her drink. Her eyes closed in bliss as she sucked the beverage up through an oversized straw.

"It's delicious is what it is," she answered. Emily had already downed her shot, and the bartender asked her if she wanted another. She shook her head no and thanked him. Vincent had been watching the exchange between Akyra, Sam, and Akyra's drink with so much interest that he'd almost forgotten his own refreshment. Tentatively, he brought the glass to his lips and took a sip. It was what he expected. The taste was terrible, and it _burned_ as it went down. It hit his stomach and started a fire there, and it was then that he remembered he hadn't had anything to eat since their light lunch before they cleaned up and prepared for their night on the town. The burning settled in his stomach and then, to his great dismay, _started its way back up._ Regret filled him as he eyed the cursed liquid that swirled so innocently in the clear glass.

"It's not so bad once you get a few down," Emily said quietly, leaning towards him so the others wouldn't hear. Akyra was in the middle of animatedly telling Sam a story about her first experience with alcohol in the Reef, her story pausing several times so that she could gulp down a few more sips of her dessert-drink. Vincent smiled lopsidedly back at Emily, and raised the glass to his lips again. The second sip was even worse than the first. He heard Emily chuckle lightly as he grimaced and tried not to gag. She raised her hand to catch the bartender's attention and ordered another shot of vodka.

When it arrived, she slid it over in front of Vincent and took the glass of whisky from him. Vincent was extremely embarrassed when the slight woman downed what was left in one swig. "Try the vodka. It's a lot smoother than whisky, but the flavor is a lot like rubbing alcohol. Don't smell it before you drink it; just get it over with all in one go."

Shifting his eyes from the woman perched next to him to the shot glass sitting on the bar in front of him, he shrugged. Taking her advice, he breathed deeply, raised the glass, and swallowed its contents as quickly as he could. Emily was right. It _did_ taste kind of like rubbing alcohol. It didn't burn quite as harshly as the whisky, but he felt like if he exhaled too quickly, fire would come shooting out of his nostrils. Flushed with heat, he met Emily's eyes. There was a twinkle there that he'd never seen before.

"Better?" she asked, the picture of innocent concern. He lied.

"Yeah, that wasn't too bad." She raised her eyebrow, the corner of her mouth lifting up in a knowing look. They sat for a while, listening to Akyra talk about anything and everything. Her energy seemed endless, and after her second Screaming Sundae, she seemed to have a slight sugar-high as well. Sam was working on his third beer when Akyra asked him if they could go dancing. Sam rolled his eyes so hard Vincent feared his retinas would detach. But there was a smile on his face as well.

"What do you say, guys? Dancing?" Vincent knew Sam would say yes. He'd been smitten since he'd first seen the Awoken woman, though the puppy-dog stares had been toned down some since their sparring session. Emily shrugged, noncommittal. Sam sighed. "I guess that means we're going to a club."

They paid their bill and left the bar, winding their way through the crowded city streets to get back to the club Akyra was most interested in. Vincent had a slight tingly feeling in his legs, and the world seemed to shift around them as they walked. Emily was close to his side, and he used the feel of her arm brushing against his as an anchor to keep him steady. Nearing the end of the line waiting for entrance to Akyra's club of choice, Sam groaned. It would be at least an hour before they could get in.

The Awoken woman grabbed the Warlock's arm and dragged him to the front of the line. Emily and Vincent followed behind, unsure as to what the plan was. Akyra walked right up to the bouncer, who was only slightly smaller than Vincent, and began her plea.

"Hi! Is there any way we can skip the line and go ahead in?" Her sugary sweet voice seemed to fall on deaf ears. The bouncer eyed Vincent as if he was sizing him up in case the conversation ended in a fight. Ignoring the smaller woman's question, the bouncer gazed at Vincent, unblinking.

"You a Titan?" he queried. Vincent nodded. The man's dark eyes moved to the rest of the group, taking them in one by one, before he spoke. "Guardians get VIP treatment," he said slowly. Lifting his arm, he pressed a hand to his ear and spoke. "Serro? We got two Hunters, a Titan, and a Warlock coming in. Yeah. Black stamp, got it. Okay."

He lowered his hand and fished into his pocket, pulling out an ink pad and a rubber stamp. Grabbing Akyra's hand, he flipped it over and pressed the stamp, covered in black ink, to the inside of her wrist. He repeated the process with the other three Guardians before he stepped aside and let them pass through the doorway and into the club. Curious, Vincent lifted his wrist to his face and examined the black splotch as best he could in the strobing light. It looked to be a simplistic shape of a Ghost.

Lifting his eyes from his wrist, he took in his surroundings. It was dark enough that he could feel his chest tighten, but the darkness was broken by the incessant flashing of the strobe lights that were timed to match the bass line blaring through the speakers. To the left there was a U-shaped bar that connected on both ends to the wall, and some booths lined the walls, set up for people to sit in when they took a break from dancing. The dance floor was a large space crammed full of bodies swaying to the thrumming that filled their chests and throbbed in their ears. Emily was watching everything with wide eyes, her back pressed so close to his front that they were nearly flush. Sam led them slowly towards an empty booth, but Akyra slipped away to the dance floor before they made it. Sam let her go, knowing full well that she could take care of herself.

Sitting at the booth, Vincent pushed Emily in before he sat down, making himself a barrier between her and everyone else. The booths were very comfortable, with high backs to give them some privacy from the other patrons. Sam asked them if they wanted any drinks, to which they both replied, "Vodka." When Sam had gone to put in their drink order, Vincent leaned over to Emily and put his mouth near her ear so that he wouldn't have to shout at her. Momentarily distracted by the slightly fruity scent her hair was giving off, he forced himself to concentrate.

"You okay?" She didn't do well in crowds, and the club was packed to the brim full of Humans, Exos, and Awoken trying to distract themselves from the harsh reality of their lives. The Hunter turned and fixed her gaze on him, green eyes capturing his own in a gaze that wasn't easy to look away from. There was fear in her eyes, but she was forcing it down, locking it away. She nodded, eyes still fixed on his, hoping he wouldn't notice how uncomfortable she really was.

But he'd noticed. Oh, how he'd seen right through her attempt at putting on a brave face and shouldering through it. Finding her hand where it was folded on her lap under the table, his threaded her fingers between his own and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Just then, Sam arrived at the table, four shots of vodka and two beers grasped awkwardly in his hands. Managing not to spill too much, he set the drinks on the tale and sat down. Vincent and Emily had their backs to the dance floor, but Sam had a clear view. Sipping absentmindedly at his beer, he watched the goings on for a while.

Vincent and Emily each had a shot, but she pushed her second over to rest in front of Vincent on the table. He understood. She wanted to relax, but not enough to let her guard down. He was still slightly buzzed from the earlier drinks at the bar, and the most recent shot wasn't helping with that, so he decided to take things a little more slowly. The last thing he wanted to do was leave Emily the only one sober enough to get them all home safely. Akyra drifted over to the booth after a while, a thin sheen of sweat coating her ashen skin. Her sparkly racerback tank top reflected the different colored lights, casting bright rainbow colored spots onto the surface of the table as she leaned over it. Seeing the still full shot glasses in front of Vincent, her eyes met his.

"Can I have one of those?" Vincent just nodded and slid one over to her. She picked up the glass and downed the drink, her face twisting up into a pucker at the strong flavor. "Wow," she exclaimed after a second. "That's rough. I'm gonna go look at the menu and see what else they have. Anyone want anything?"

Sam put in a request for another beer, this time a different brew, and Akyra bounced over to the bar. Vincent watched the Warlock's eyes trail after her, smirking when Sam noticed he was being watched. Grinning mischievously, the amber-eyed man just chuckled and returned to his drink. Emily was quiet where she sat leaning against the wall, but the tension had left her shoulders and she wore a faint smile. Akyra drifted back over to the table, drinks in hand, her white eyes glowing in the shadowy interior. She passed Sam his beer, this one a darker color, and sipped on her own drink. This one was blue, with chunks of coconut and pineapple wedged on the rim of the glass. "What is _that_?" Sam asked what they were all thinking.

"I forget what it's called, but it kind of tropical flavored. It's got coconut flavored rum, some kind of blue flavored syrup stuff, and something else I can't remember. It's really good though." Sam shook his head. "You better drink that, Vince," Akyra gestured to the remaining shot of vodka that sat innocently on the table before him. "Otherwise I'll steal it, and someone will have to carry me back to the Tower!"

Sighing, Vincent gulped the alcohol, telling himself that this was his last beverage, and he was only drinking it to save himself from having to carry the Awoken woman home later that night. His head was pleasantly swimming already, and the tingling in his legs returned and began to move up into his arms as well. When she finished her drink, Akyra stood from the table abruptly, swaying just a little bit before jamming her fists onto her hips and fixing them all with a serious gaze.

"Someone needs to come dance with me," she sated matter-of-factly. "You're all sitting here like bumps on a log and I'm the only one having fun." She turned to Sam and held her hand out, an inviting smile lighting up her pretty face. Her darkly stained lips contrasted sharply against her gleaming white teeth. Helpless in the face of her pleading, Sam reached out and took her hand and allowed her to pull him out to the dance floor, half-empty beer forgotten.

"Do you want to go with them?" Emily asked softly from his left. He hadn't realized he'd been staring after the duo until she'd said something. Turning to face her, he took in the sight of the woman before him, hazel eyes shining and rimmed with just a hint of dark powder. He hadn't realized she'd put on make-up until that moment. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, but some strands had escaped and fell to loosely frame her face. Vincent shook his head.

"I've never been much of a dancer," he told her. "But I'll go with you if you want to."

At the moment, he wasn't sure if he wanted her to say yes or no. Her negative reply would save him from any potential embarrassment, but if she wanted to go out and dance the way Sam and Akyra were at the moment, with her back flush against his chest and her rubbing against him in a _very_ provocative way, he didn't think he could refuse her. The mental image of the two of them out there, her skin flushed and her eyes closed as she moved against him, brought a light stain of pink to his own cheeks.

"I used to, before I graduated nursing school. I was a bit of a wild child," she smirked at him, her eyes distant as she traced the polished wood grain of the table top with the end of one delicate finger. "I think it was because of my dad," she continued. "He was always so strict, always pushing me to follow his path and accomplish the same things he had. It turned me into a bit of a rebel." A light chuckle met his ears, and he smiled for no reason other than he liked the sound. "Did you ever go through that phase?"

Strangely enough, thinking about his family with his alcohol-numbed brain didn't hurt as much as it did when he was sober. He thought back to his teenage years, before the Traveler had arrived.

"Not really. I grew up on my father's farm. They were very religious, so I didn't get to do anything the other kids my age were able to do. The only time I left was when I went to school, and even that only lasted for a few years." Emily's brow furrowed.

"You only had to go to school for a _few years?_ I spent 16 years of my life in school. There were a few breaks, but not many. I won't lie, I'm pretty jealous right now."

"Well, my mother home-schooled us for the majority of the time. I did pretty well, but there was really no point other than it was mandated by law. I was the only son. When my father died, the farm would have been mine. I didn't want it, but it was expected of me. I wanted to go to college."

"For what?" Emily asked.

It took him a moment to gather his thoughts. "I'd thought of going for aerospace engineering or something of the like. Space was always fascinating to me, and I thought that even if I couldn't be an astronaut, maybe I could help design and build the ships that went to space. My mother fully supported me. She knew I didn't want to be a farmer for the rest of my life. She helped me study, drove me to town to take tests, and she didn't tell my father when I mailed off scholarship applications to several colleges in America."

Emily was quiet. He could feel her eyes as she stared at him, but he didn't lift his gaze from his hands where they were folded on the table. Sighing, he continued. "Dad only found out when I received an acceptance letter. I'd told him one night at dinner. Mom was beaming, you could tell she was proud, but after I'd said it I regretted saying anything to him at all. I should've left. I'd been thinking about it for a long time, of just taking my savings and everything I could carry and booking a flight and just going.

He was furious when I told him. He brought up my sister, asked me what she was going to do if I left her. He said she couldn't handle the farm on her own, even with a husband, and that he'd be damned if he let an outsider take our land. The farm had been in our family for many generations, and it was tradition that the eldest son took over from his father. I challenged him that night, even though I knew I shouldn't have. It was a messy fight. I didn't want to hurt him, but I wanted him to understand that I wasn't a child anymore."

Vincent paused for a while, memories running rampant. Eying what was left of Sam's beer, he reached over and grabbed it, taking a few swallows before setting the glass back down. It had an odd flavor, but it was definitely more palatable than the liquor had been. "I think he was surprised I'd even stand up to him. I usually just did as I was told, never bothered to really complain about it, you know? I think he was even more surprised when he found himself looking up at me from the flat of his back. I was so angry at the time I didn't realize we'd fought until after it'd happened. Mum was crying, and I was so ashamed of what I'd done I just left. We had a forest on the edge of the property, and I spent a few days there letting things cool down before I even tried going home. When I finally plucked up the courage, everyone acted like nothing had happened at all. Things were tense, but we never talked about it again. And then a few weeks later the Traveler was discovered, and any chance of me leaving was gone."

Vincent hadn't really meant to share that much, but once he'd started he hadn't been able to stop. Emily had stayed silent, though he knew she was processing everything he'd said. Downing the last of Sam's beer, Vincent decided that he rather liked it. It was bitter and cold, but it was far easier to drink than anything else he'd had that night. He started when Emily's hand found his on the tabletop and she gave it a light squeeze.

"At least now you're living your dream," she said when he looked over at her. He couldn't help the snort of laughter that resulted from her innocent statement.

"Yeah, only now I have a debilitating fear of darkness and that's all space is. Empty, black, and cold." He hadn't meant for it to come out so harshly, but Emily gave him an apologetic look. "Sorry, Em," he said, shaking his head. He gave her a small smile. "Didn't mean for it to come out like that."

"It's okay. I understand." And she did. He knew that for a fact. Just like he understood her fear of crowds even if he didn't know the reasoning behind it. She would tell him, or she wouldn't. Either way, it was her decision. Just then, Sam and Akyra arrived back at the table and dropped into the empty seats. Sam was grinning ear to ear, and Vincent raised an eyebrow at him. Sam's smile got impossibly wider.

"I don't know about you guys," the Warlock stated, "but I need another drink." He glared purposefully at the empty glass sitting in front of Vincent. Akyra rose from her seat again and bounded over to the counter, speaking rapidly to the bartender. Vincent knew there was something important he was forgetting, but for the life of him he couldn't remember what it was. When Akyra arrived back at the table with a round of shots, another beer for Sam, and another one of the blue concoctions she had consumed earlier, he gave up trying to remember. They each grabbed a shot, and on the count of three, they drank. After that, things just got more and more blurry.

O.o.O.o.O

When they finally arrived back at the Tower, it was close to three A.M. Akyra was leaning on Sam's arm like it was the only thing keeping her upright, but Sam wasn't faring much better himself. Emily had managed to keep her composure for the most part, and was riding a very pleasant buzz as they made their way back to their room. Akyra wanted to stay up some more, stating that if she tried to sleep like this she'd be up in a few minutes "barfing her guts up all over everything." So they detoured to Sam and Vincent's room and grabbed a few water bottles.

Emily handed one to Vincent, unsure as to how the Titan was still on his feet after everything he'd had to drink, on top of the fact that he'd never really gotten drunk before. He grinned at her, the first real smile she'd seen from him since he'd woken up from his sedation that terrible night. There was a pang in her chest at the memory, but she pushed those thoughts away and took a seat next to him on his bed. They sat together for a while, talking about anything and everything, laughing and joking like they'd all known each other for years. It was strange, Emily thought, how quickly they'd all become so attached to each other. A year ago she'd have never even dreamed she could be a part of something like this. All it took was a little trust, and now they were reveling together after a relaxing night of fun.

She yawned. It had been a _very_ long day, and she was tired, but she didn't want to go to sleep just yet. In the morning, they'd all be miserable and unable to do much of anything besides lay around and recover from their hangovers, and she wasn't quite ready to let go of the moment. She laughed when Vincent and Sam told them a story about one of their first few missions together. Vincent face was slightly red from embarrassment, but he laughed just as hard as the rest of them when Sam had explained, in great detail, Vincent's first encounter with a Vex Goblin.

"And he says, no, sh, he says, and you know his accent, he says, 'Well what the fuck, Sam, I thought these were more of the good robots like at the Tower!' and I'm yelling at him to get his ass in cover because they're coming at us, but I can't stop laughing because I can't stop thinking about the damn _handshake_ he'd just gotten from a Goblin before it started shooting at him."

Sam could hardly breathe for his hysterical laughter, and Akyra was in the same boat. Emily wondered what the Awoken woman was thinking, or if she'd even realized that any normal human would have grown up hearing stories about the Vex and therefore would have recognized it as an enemy. Maybe, she thought, the other woman was too drunk to realize it. Nonetheless, it was a funny story, and she couldn't stop her own laughter from bubbling out.

She yawned again, covering her mouth with the back of her hand, and this time Vincent noticed. He looked down at her, eyes glassy and half-lidded, and gave her a small half-smile. "You ready for bed?" he asked her gently. Akyra groaned from the other side of the room.

"No, Emily, you can't go yet! This party isn't over," the Awoken woman whined. Emily just shook her head. She could see the exhaustion written plainly all over everyone's forms, the slumped shoulders, the slow blinks. If they didn't start towards their own room, Emily knew the two women would end up passed out somewhere in the boys' room. She stood, stretching, and reached a hand out to steady herself. Vincent stood as well and followed her toward the door.

She turned back to him, thinking he was going to wish her goodnight and let her go on her way, but he closed the door behind himself. "I'll walk you," he said. She smirked.

"What, do you think I'll be attacked on the way to my room?" He laughed, shaking his head as he turned and started down the hallway towards her room. She followed closely behind him, watching the muscles of his back dance beneath the thin fabric of his t-shirt. After a few moments, she forced her eyes away and focused blearily on the hallway ahead of them. Stopping outside the door, she turned to face him, finding his eyes. They stood in silence for what seemed to be a few minutes before he reached out and stroked the smooth skin of her left cheek. She closed her eyes and reveled in the feel of his warm, calloused thumb as it made a path from her cheekbone just beneath her eye all the way down to her jaw.

"Thanks," he said quietly, causing her to open her eyes, brows furrowed in confusion.

"For what?" The question came out in a whisper.

"For listening. For sticking with us. For helping fix us when we get busted up. For everything, really." He lifted his lips in another half-smile, and for the second time, she wondered why he would go to the trouble of putting any other expression on that handsome face. A fuzzy, warm feeling filled her chest.

"Do you want to come in?" The words had left her mouth before she even had the chance to process her thoughts. Damn alcohol. Embarrassed, she turned and opened the door, leaving it wide while she went in and flicked on the lamp beside her bed. She heard his footsteps as he followed her in, pushing the door to behind him. In all the time they'd spent together, he'd never set foot inside her room before. She'd had to clear some things out of the way in order to make room for Akyra, but the space was still decorated with some personal items she'd recovered from her travels.

A Fallen Captain's mask perched on the desk in the back corner of the room, and beside it sat some other trinkets. She had spent most of her free time over the years scavenging the ruins on Earth in the Cosmodrome. There was a small tin box, rusted and dented, which contained a few of the only pieces of paper she'd ever stumbled upon outside of the Tower. They were advertisements of some sort, but they were no less precious to her than the locket that rested atop them. It was beautifully crafted, and she'd spent many nights polishing the silver until it shone just as brightly as the day it was made.

She watched him as he examined each piece she had on the table before turning towards her again, a small smile gracing his lips. He stepped closer to her, until they were inches apart. Nervousness swam in her gut, and she wondered what in the world there was to be nervous about. Vincent was her friend, and she trusted him. Glancing up at him, she smiled.

"I didn't know you were a collector," he said softly. She met his gaze and shook her head slightly. "I'm not. I just find things that are interesting and I bring them here. That's all I've brought back since I started," she gestured to the desk. "I-"

She didn't finish, because he'd lifted her chin with a finger and placed his lips gently against hers. She was still buzzed, and though she knew they probably shouldn't be doing this, she forced the voice of reason from her mind. Before she knew what was happening, she'd slid her hands up his chest. He tilted his head, dragging his tongue over her bottom lip, and she was gone.

Sighing against him, she let all of her worry fade away. He took her sigh as an ok to continue and slipped his tongue into her mouth, bringing his left arm around behind her back and pulling her closer. He was drunk, and he would probably regret this in the morning if he even remembered it happened at all, but she didn't care. They could deal with the consequences later. She returned the kiss, sliding her tongue against his and letting out a soft moan. The arm around her back tightened, but not enough to cause any panic.

In the back of her mind, she was relieved. She had wondered if she'd ever be able to get this close to a man again, but it seemed that her self-preservation instincts were either allowing it, or drowned in alcohol. Either way, she planned on enjoying the moment while she could.

One of her hands fisted in his shirt, twisting the thin material as she tried to get closer to him. Breaking the kiss for a split second, she inhaled a ragged breath before reclaiming his lips again. She bit him gently and felt more than heard his groan in response as it rumbled in his chest beneath her fist. His other arm snaked behind her back, fingers splayed between her shoulder blades as he pressed her closer to him. Never breaking the kiss, she felt his left arm slip out from behind her back. There was a chill as the hem of her shirt was lifted, causing goose pimples to break out across her belly just before the cold was chased away by a very large, very warm hand.

Letting his hand rest there for several moments, she almost forgot about it until it started heading up her rib cage. The shirt she'd chosen to wear out for the night was nearly see through, so she'd worn a camisole underneath. She'd foregone a bra since she didn't really need one with the cami, and so there was only thin fabric separating his palm from her skin when his hand finally found her breast. She couldn't have stopped the moan if she'd wanted to. Gasping, her head rolled back and Vincent took the opportunity to trail kisses from her collarbone all the way up to the sensitive spot just beneath her ear. Another moan, and he pulled her back up, crushing his lips against hers.

She wasn't sure how far this was going to go, and at the moment she didn't really care. She was letting her hormones run wild for the first time in a long, long time, and all she wanted to do was enjoy the experience. An involuntary shudder went down her spine when the pad of his thumb brushed over her nipple through the fabric of her camisole. He made a noise much like a growl when her back arched, pushing her breasts into his chest. His right hand left her back and burned a trail down her hip before firmly gripping her behind through her jeans.

No alarms were sounding in her head, and she was thankful. She was enjoying this far too much. Biting his lip again, she reached down with one hand and slipped her fingers under his shirt. Splaying her hand over the smooth skin just above his right hip, she couldn't help the flush of heat that rushed to her face when the powerful muscles beneath her palm and fingertips flexed. She wanted the damnable scrap of clothing _off_ , she wanted to see him, all of him, but as soon as her hand brushed against the uneven skin of his scar as she stroked his abdomen, he was gone.

When she opened her eyes she was shaking, suddenly very cold in the absence of his smothering attentions. He stood a few feet away, chest heaving, one hand resting over his shirt where she knew the scar lay just beneath. Horror filled her. She _knew_ how he felt about it, how sensitive he was about the ugly reminder of his death. Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them away. She opened her mouth to apologize, but he was already speaking.

"I'm sorry," he said, eyes flicking up to hers briefly. "I got carried away, I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry." Her heart was pounding, and she couldn't find the words to say, so she watched him leave in silence.

 **A/N: As much fun as this chapter was to write, and as much as I want to tell this story and develop the relationships and the plot within, this may be my last chapter. My motivation has been lacking, and I don't know if the majority of the people reading this story even like it, so unless I can dig down and find the will to power on, you probably won't find out how this story ends. Life has been busy lately, and I just can't bring myself to pour time into a story that I'm not even sure is worth writing when I could spend it doing other things. Endless thanks to those of you who have reviewed and given me your feedback, and I'm sorry for not having the time and patience to continue. As always, feel free to PM me with whatever questions you may have.**

 **P.S.- This is the first thing I've posted that's even a little bit dirty, so if it's terrible blame it on inexperience. But I would love to hear your thoughts.**

 **Much love, and if this is the end, thanks for reading. ~ V.N.**


	17. Set Them in the Heaven

_Warning: FLUFF AHEAD_

"Did I annoy them too much?" Akyra asked from where she sat on Sam's bed. The Warlock was struggling to keep his eyes open, but at the woman's question he opened them fully and met her worried stare. "I know I'm not like you guys, but I don't want to be annoying. I just can't help it sometimes…"

"'Kyra, no, you're not annoying. Emily and Vince are, uh… They're complicated. Their lives have been really hard, and they've been through some terrible shit. You didn't annoy them, I promise." At his reassurance, she smiled. Sam was beginning to wonder where Vince had taken off to, but he figured he'd give the Titan a few more minutes before he went looking for him. "Was it everything you've ever dreamed?"

Akyra grinned. "It was wonderful, Sam. Thank you." She stood and made her way over to him, planting a light kiss to his cheek. "I guess I should go now," she said as she straightened. "Where's Vincent?" Sam was wondering the same thing, and he stood slowly, determined to find his friend before he passed out on the floor of their room. "Let's go find out."

The walked out into the hallway, steps as quiet as they could be in their slightly inebriated state so they wouldn't wake the other slumbering Guardians. Akyra glanced over at him, stifling a giggle at the overly exaggerated way he was walking. He grinned at her and kept moving forward, but a noise brought him to a dead stop. Akyra stopped as well, head tilted slightly as she listened. Again, a sound like a soft moan drifted from the slightly ajar door just down the hall. Akyra waved at him to get his attention before mouthing ' _that's our room!'_ at him. He held up a finger to his lips, telling her to be quiet, and resumed his mostly silent trek forward.

Stopping just outside the doorway, he waited for Akyra to slip up beside him before they leaned around the door frame to see what was going on. Sam's mouth fell open. Standing in the middle of the room were Vincent and Emily, locked in a very intimate embrace. Sam couldn't help the slight puff of pride that swelled in his chest when he noticed that Vincent had a handful of both boob _and_ butt. Emily seemed to be enjoying herself as well, but before he could get a better look at what was going on the Warlock was forcefully yanked out of the doorway and spun around to face Akyra. She was blushing. Jabbing a finger over her shoulder, she pointed back towards Sam's room and mouthed ' _let's go.'_

So they crept back down the hallway and into the room, and when the door finally closed behind them, Sam let out a whooshing breath. "Holy shit! _Vincent and Emily were making out._ They were. They were totally making out." Akyra smacked the side of his head, jolting him out of his stupor.

"Yes, Sam, they were. Get over it, they're adults, they can make out of they want to." Her cheeks were still stained pink, but he didn't comment. So it had finally happened. He had wondered how long it would take the two of them to wise up and realize they were attracted to each other, and it seemed it had finally happened. Sam was happy for them, right up until Vincent came blowing into the room less than a minute later.

"Night Vincent," Akyra said as she passed him on her way out, head down and eyes on the floor. Vincent hardly seemed to notice she was there at all, and then she was gone. Sam's brow furrowed, wondering what had happened to break up their furious make out session, but he couldn't ask lest Vincent find out that they'd been caught.

"Hey Vince, what's up?" Sam asked innocently. Vincent glanced up from where he was leaning with his back on the wall, meeting his friend's eyes. "I fucked up."

Vincent moved over to his bed and sat, head in his hands. "What happened?" Sam asked as he knelt in front of the Titan. Peeking out from between his fingers, Vincent sighed. "I kissed Emily," he admitted slowly. "I don't know what happened, we were talking and then I just _kissed_ her, and then… Oh, God." Sam couldn't help the smirk that plastered itself onto his face. He'd seen what had come after the ' _and then_.' But what had brought the man back to the room so quickly, and looking so horrified?

"Congrats on the kiss, man. What happened after?" Vincent heaved a huge sigh, refusing to move his hands from over his eyes. "Things got a little, um, serious. I didn't mean to Sam, honest, she's just… Jesus, I've really buggered myself this time. I don't know if she'll forgive me, you know how she is about her personal space and too much contact…"

"Vincent!" Sam couldn't take it anymore. " _What._ Did. You. Do?"

"I _kissed_ her, Sam! Haven't you been listening?!"

"That's it? You messed up because you _kissed her?_ " Sam stood and shook his head. "How is that a major fuck-up? You guys have been dancing around each other for _months_!" Incredulous, Sam paced to his bed and back. "What made you stop?"

"That's the thing, Sam, I don't think I would have if she hadn't… She had her hand under my shirt and I was gonna let her take it off but she touched my scar and it was an accident I think but it sort of jolted me back to reality and when I realized I had a handful of her ass I just, I don't know, I panicked." Vincent shrugged, finally meeting Sam's gaze. The words had come out in a rush, and he hauled in a deep breath to try and calm himself.

"So," Sam started slowly. "What you mean to tell me," a pause, "is that I've watched you two stare at each other when you think no one's looking, flirt with each other, and pretty much eye-fuck each other for months- _months!-_ and you're telling me all you did was make out, grab some ass, and then _leave?_ " Vincent just stared at him. "You're a Traveler-damned _idiot_ , Vince."

Vincent was silent, eyes shifting to stare thoughtfully at the floor. He couldn't help but agree with Sam that yes, he was indeed an idiot.

"You have to talk to her. And I don't mean in a week, or a month. I mean tomorrow. Morning. I can't have you two all awkward and angsty while we're hunting Skolas. You're my best friend, Vince. But Emily is also my friend. You fix this in the morning."

Being a hard-ass was never fun for Sam, but it came with being a team leader. Sometimes, you had to crack down on your people in order to what was best for them. He knew they would be okay. Emily may have been flighty and anxious in the beginning, but she had proved to be level-headed and reliable once she'd settled in. And though Vincent had his moments, he was also a protective, caring person. They would figure things out, and hopefully, Sam smirked, the two would realize that they were madly in love with each other.

O.o.O.o.O

When Akyra had arrived back at the room she shared with Emily, she took a moment to mentally prepare herself before stepping through the door. Though she had seen people in love before, had witnessed similar situations, she had never been close to the people in those situations. They were always strangers. To have seen two of her teammates in such a passionate embrace caused her blush to rise again and her heart to ache.

Back home, her mother had always told her to guard her heart carefully. So she had poured herself into her training, becoming faster and stronger every day. Eventually, the others her age had stopped sparring with her. They didn't like her anymore. Her father had given her free reign in his private training room, and it was there that she had perfected her technique and become the warrior she was today. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped through.

Emily was already in her bed, wrapped tightly in her blankets. Akyra knew she wasn't asleep, but she tiptoed through the room anyway. Stripping out of her clothes and putting on her more comfortable sleep wear, she padded over to Emily's bedside table and flicked the lamp off, pretending not to notice Emily's eyes were open and fixed on the wall in front of her.

Pulling back the sheets, she slid into her bed and settled in for the night, trying not to think about anything in particular. For the life of her, she couldn't erase the image of two teammates locked in each other's embrace. She had only known them for a few days, but she'd seen the way they were together. Emily stuck to Vincent like a bee to the tastiest honey in the world, and Vincent treated her like she was the most precious thing in the world. After hearing what Sam had said about them being different and that they'd been through difficult times, she couldn't help but feel pity for them. Something had happened between them to cause Vincent to leave the way he did.

"Emily?" she called softly into the darkness before she could lose her nerve. The only response she received was a questioning grunt. "Are you okay?"

There was a sigh from the other side of the room, and the blankets rustled as the Guardian shifted in her bed. "Yeah, Akyra. I'm fine." The Awoken woman let it drop. They may not have known each other very well, but Akyra vowed to herself that she would do her best to focus on her team tomorrow. She already considered them friends, but she wasn't sure if they saw her the same way. Letting her eyes drift closed, she tried to get the world to stop spinning long enough for her to fall asleep.

O.o.O.o.O

When they gathered for breakfast the next morning, Vincent was determined to pull Emily aside and explain what had happened the night before. He felt like he'd been hit by a heavy pike, and the headache he sported was enough to make him want to stay in bed all day. They walked into the mess hall side by side, but only Akyra was there waiting for them. When she saw the look on his face, she hastily explained.

"She was gone when I woke up this morning. I'm not sure where she is, but she can't have gone far; her armor is still in the room." That was all Vincent needed to hear. He spun and headed out of the mess hall, wracking his thoughts for any idea as to where she could have gone. Stepping out into the sunshine of the Plaza, he shielded his eyes, trying to lessen the amount of pain his head was causing him. He knew she wouldn't be anywhere where there would be a lot of people, so he removed the Hangar, the Plaza, and the mess hall from his list of places to search. She could have gone to the Infirmary, but at a time like this she was probably searching for solitude. It was her way of coping with difficult situations.

A pang of guilt hit him at the realization that he had put her in this situation. He would fix it though, just as soon as he found her. Marking places off his imaginary list, he came up with an idea, and headed in the direction of the stairs that led up to the dorms. Taking them two at a time, he reached the top quickly and passed by the door that would take him inside. Instead, he kept walking, went around the corner, and there she was. It was a spot that was known to all Guardians, but because there was nothing of value there, most ignored the area completely. Emily was sitting all the way down by the concrete wall, her legs dangling over the side and her arms folded on the bottom rung of the protective guardrail.

He took in the sight for a moment, his chest squeezing painfully. Gathering his courage, he walked over and sat down facing her, legs folded beneath him. She didn't say anything, and she didn't move. Her chin was resting on her folded arms as if she were looking out over the City, but her eyes were closed. "Em?" His voice came out barely above a whisper, and when she didn't respond he cleared his throat and tried again. "Can we talk?"

She sighed, angling her head towards him and opening her eyes. They sat in silence for a while, him trying to come up with the right words, and her waiting for him to speak.

"I'm sorry about last night," he began slowly. "I was drunk, but I knew what I was doing. I was just going to kiss you, but I got carried away, and I knew I shouldn't have but I didn't want to stop, and-"

"And I touched your scar." Her voice was quiet, as was usual, but it held a somber note he rarely heard from her anymore. She turned away from him and looked out over the City.

"Well, yeah, but-"

"It's my fault," she said. "I know how you feel about it, and I didn't mean to… I just wanted to touch you."

"No, Emily, I'm not worried about that. You've seen it before, and I trust you. You touching my scar… it sort of woke me up. I shouldn't have kissed you like that. I took advantage of the situation, and I know how you are about your personal space but at the time I didn't care, and that was very selfish of me. I was drunk but I was also drunk on _you_ and I don't think I'd have stopped if you hadn't touched the scar." The words all came out in a jumbled up mess, but he just wanted her to understand that he was sorry.

She fixed him with a confused gaze, hazel eyes flashing. "You aren't mad at me?"

"God no, Emily." He pulled her arms down from the railing and spun her to face him before taking her hands in his. "I'm not mad at anyone but myself. As soon as I realized what I'd done…" He trailed off, extremely embarrassed by his behavior the night before. Meeting her eyes, he noticed she still wore the same look of confusion.

"Why are you apologizing, Vincent?"

"Because… Because I took advantage of you. I know how you are about your personal space, and twice in a week I've gone and done something stupid. I just- I don't want to hurt you, Emily. I don't think I could ever forgi-" She silenced him with two fingers over his lips. Her confused expression had melted away to one of amusement.

"Do you remember everything that happened last night?" she asked him. Rubbing the back of his neck, he shot her a sheepish grin.

"Kind of hard to forget, actually." She laughed.

"Then you should be able to remember whether or not I was kissing you back."

"Well, yeah, you were. But it's not like I gave you any choice about it."

"Vincent." Her tone was so serious he shut his mouth and met her eyes. "You know if you'd have made me uncomfortable, the last thing I'd have been doing would be kissing you, right?" He didn't have any words. He'd thought about it, but he'd had himself so convinced that he'd wronged her, that he'd hurt her, he hadn't entertained those thoughts any further.

"So we were both mistaken," she whispered to herself. Drawing her legs up, she inched closer and sat back on her heels. "You really didn't mind that I touched your scar?"

He sighed, smoothing a hand through his hair before answering. "Like I said earlier, you've seen it before. And I trust you. It is extremely personal, and I don't want just anyone seeing it, but you of all people understand what it truly _means_."

Emily sat quietly for a few seconds before she spoke. "So you're telling me that if I asked you to take your shirt off right now, you would?" He met her gaze, eyes serious. When she didn't say anything else, he straightened his back and grabbed the hem of his shirt, lifting it up and baring his stomach to her. Her gaze stayed fixed on his for several long seconds before it darted down. He watched her face as she studied him, noting that she kept her expression studiously blank. Bringing herself to her knees, she rested on hand on the concrete to prop herself up and reached the other hand out to touch him.

He shivered as her fingers lightly brushed over the puckered skin, tracing the damaged area from one end to the other. Her eyes locked on his again, and she moved her hands to his folded knees, using his legs as a platform so she could get closer. She put her face near his, her light breaths fanning out across his skin. She was so close, he could see the silvery green flecks in her eyes just before they closed.

She kissed him then, but it was nothing like what they'd shared the night before. She was hesitant and gentle, her lips soft against his. She pressed forward more, forcing him to engage his core as his weight was moved off center, but she didn't stop there. He pushed back, his tongue slipping into her welcoming mouth, and before he knew it she had perched herself on his lap, knees on either side of his hips and her hands on his face, in his hair, everywhere all at once. Surprised by her boldness, he slipped a hand up to rest lightly on her hip. When he came up for air he opened his eyes and the sight of her looking down at him, long hair framing her face and his as if creating a curtain to hide them from the world, was almost too much for him to bear. He bit down on the growl that was forcing its way up.

"Em," he whispered as he gazed up into her eyes. "You have to promise me something." She nodded above him, her hair tickling his ears and neck. "You have to promise that if I ever make you uncomfortable, you'll stop me. You'll tell me, yeah?"

She didn't say anything, just nodded again and lowered her lips to his.

O.o.O.o.O

When they entered the mess hall, she was surprised to see Sam and Akyra still sitting at a bench. It had been a half hour since Vincent had found her, and when she finally pried herself off of him it was a struggle not to drag him to her room and pick up where they'd left off. She was surprised at herself, really. After all this time with no contact from anyone for fear it would send her into a screaming fit, she'd spent the last several hours in very close quarters with a _man._ She couldn't keep the smile off her face, though not for lack of trying.

Vincent sat across from Sam, leaving Emily the inside seat. The two Awoken eyeballed the Humans curiously, and Sam's eyes lingered on Emily's slightly swollen lips. Narrowing his eyes, he caught Vincent's gaze for a second before he addressed the group.

"Okay gang. Tomorrow we resume the hunt for Skolas. I want everyone ready to roll out before zero six. That should give us plenty of time to track this guy down and get after him. I know it's an early start, but the quicker we get this over with the quicker we come home. Understood?" Affirmative statements filled the quiet, and then he continued. "As for today, we're dedicating ourselves to hangover recovery. Nobody leaves the Tower unless it's for a good reason. Remember to drink lots of water and nap for, like, four hours. At least. Got it? Got it. Good. I'm going to work on that four hours right now, if you need me, you know where to find me."

With that, Sam stood and headed back towards the dorms. Akyra stayed seated, a small smile on her lips as her eyes moved back and forth between the two of them. Emily was just beginning to get uncomfortable beneath her gaze when she finally spoke.

"I'm glad everything worked out." Her smile grew. "Do you two have any plans for today? Other than Sam's mandatory nap time, of course." She chuckled. "I'm not really sure what to do with myself, honestly."

Emily felt bad for the younger woman. "Have you visited all the vendors yet? They may have some items you might be interested in. Banshee-44 usually has some good stock, and Amanda always has great advice about ships and sparrows."

"I haven't really talked to anyone, no. Other than the tour I got from you guys, I haven't really explored much." She frowned. It hadn't been that long since she'd stepped off of the ship that had brought her here, and she hadn't had very much time to herself. "I think I will go have a look around."

When the Awoken woman made to leave, Emily stopped her. "Akyra?" When she had the other woman's attention, she continued. "There are some people I think you should avoid. You'll know them when you see them, but I wanted to give you some warning. The Faction leaders don't deserve your time, okay? Try to steer clear of them."

Nodding solemnly, Akyra turned and disappeared through the door. Emily, stomach growling, got up and went through the line to get something to fill her belly. Besides alcohol and water, she really hadn't put anything in there since lunch yesterday, and she was ready for something a little more solid. Retaking her seat next to Vincent, she glanced at him before tucking into her food. He seemed to be lost in thought, eyes far away as he stared at the empty space in front of him.

"You okay?" Voice tentative, she wondered if he was regretting anything that had happened in the previous eight hours. Seeming to come out of his daze, he looked down at her, smiling slightly. There weren't too many Guardians in the mess hall, but there were several groups sitting on the other side of the large space.

"I'm good," he said. "Just thinking." His smile grew a bit, and a mischievous gleam lit up his eyes. "What do you want to do with our free time? I'm liking the sound of that nap myself, though I don't think I'd like to spend four hours asleep. I don't feel like that would help the headache at all."

Emily had nearly forgotten that he was probably very hungover at the moment. She'd never had many problems the day after a long night of drinking. Her friends had all been jealous of her before, but she hadn't had much to drink since she'd woken up to her new life. Just the occasional shot to steady her hands when she patched herself up.

"Like Sam said, drink lots of water. It'll help the headache some. But we can go see Dr. Siobhan for some painkillers if it doesn't get better soon." She stood, winding her way through the cafeteria towards the bright sunlight outside. Down in the City it was slightly warmer, but on the open Tower Plaza, the chilly wind bit at her with a ferocity that would match any starving wolfs. Pulling her sweatshirt closed tighter around her, she glanced back to make sure Vincent was behind her before heading for the Infirmary. Better to get a jumpstart on the hangover relief than to wait and see if it got better.

Vincent seemed to be unaffected by the cold, or he was too focused on his headache to really notice. Between the high walls of the Traveler's Walk the wind was lessened, but Emily didn't slow her pace. Any day now the snow would begin to fall and she hated the cold, dreary weather that accompanied it. Pushing through the door, Emily found the emerald-haired doctor sitting at her desk, typing furiously at the console before her. When she noticed their arrival, she smiled.

"Ah, Emily, Vincent. Good to see you. What can I do for you this morning?" Emily had always felt more relaxed in the doctor's company. She wasn't sure if it was being near someone who would have been a coworker in her previous life or the doctor herself. The woman had an easygoing personality, but she had a no-nonsense attitude that amused Emily to no end. To see the woman with her patients was to see a lion-tamer at work.

"Hey, Doc," Vincent greeted. "Got a miracle cure for hangovers?" The doctor's laugh caught them both by surprise.

"I didn't take you for the drinking type, Vincent. Let me go get something." When she disappeared to find the miracle cure, Vincent leaned in towards Emily's ear, his proximity making her shiver slightly.

"Ten glimmer says she gives me a lecture about drinking too much," he whispered. Emily grinned up at him and nodded acceptance of the bet. The doctor reappeared and handed Vincent two pills and a bottle of water.

"Now I'm sure you've heard, but you need to stay hydrated and try to get some rest. You're on leave today?" The two Guardians nodded. "Good. That will help matters. Hungover and hunting Fallen doesn't sound like a good mixture, does it?" She smiled warmly and the pair turned to leave, thanking her quietly. Just as Vincent reached the door, the doctor called to him, not looking up from her console. "Vincent?" When she knew had his attention she continued. "Do try not to make a habit of the drinking. Indulging every now and then is all well and good, but remember what's at stake." She fixed him with a serious gaze. "And remember, if you need someone to talk to, I'm here. Don't turn to alcohol to ease your pains."

Vincent nodded solemnly and turned to leave. Emily was waiting for him, having heard the whole conversation, wearing an amused expression. "You owe me ten glimmer," Vincent said as they turned the corner and headed back to the dorms. Emily just smirked at him.

"I have something different in mind," she said quietly over her shoulder, making sure he heard her. His look of surprise made her laugh, but it was a nervous titter rather than an easygoing giggle. Her boldness was beginning to shock her, but she felt like she couldn't contain herself. She had finally begun to let go of her past and move on towards a very promising future. Winding her way towards the dorms, she felt lighter than she had since even before she'd died.

Someone call the guards, I think I might start a fire

I'm losing all control, I'm giving into desire

Climbing over restless limbs

All tied up in knots from loving him

I'm going crazy, I'm going crazy

Being a jailbird

I'm burning down the walls to light up the front door

Tearing down the holes to see the light once more

Jailbird, not gonna be a jailbird anymore

I don't feel any bit of my old dark self

Maybe I'll be cold without my protective shell

But all I know is I won't grow

Being captive to your control

I'm going crazy, been going crazy

Being a jailbird

I'm burning down the walls to light up the front door

Tearing down the holes to see the light once more

Jailbird, not gonna be a jailbird anymore

Jailbird, jailbird

Ooh, thanks to my boy, I leave you now

Bye love

If we met again, I'd hold you dear

But bye for now, my love

I'm burning down the walls to light up the front door

Tearing down the holes to see the light once more

Jailbird, not gonna be a jailbird anymore

Jailbird, jailbird

 _~Jailbird, Shells_

 **A/N:** So I know I said the last chapter might be the last one ever but the muse kicked me pretty hard in the pants and I managed to get one more out. I'm not saying that yes I'm giving up, I'm just saying don't be surprised if I drop off the face of the Earth and you never hear from me again. I'd have liked for this chapter to be longer but it was sort of a struggle to get this far so I wanted to post what I had just in case, y'know, I never write again. Heh. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. It wasn't easy to get it out and I'm not totally happy with it but it's here. PLEASE REVIEW.

The song lyrics at the end are (to me) kind of Emily's theme song. She's growing and changing as a person and she's saying goodbye to her past. But her past will always be there, even if she doesn't let it hold her captive anymore. Give it a listen. It's light and innocent sounding and I think it fits her character really well. Tata for now, and hopefully we'll meet again!


	18. UPDATENotice of hiatus

UPDATE:

Hello all, I know it's been a while but life can get pretty crazy. I joined the military and I leave for basic training in a few days. I have a chapter mostly written but I don't particularly like it so instead up updating with trash I'm just gonna give you guys a heads up that it's gonna be awhile. If I do return and post another chapter, I'll remove this update and put the new chapter in its place. I hope you guys can forgive me for flying under the radar for so long. Anyway, you guys hang in there and keep doing you. Don't let anybody steal your shine!

Warmest regards,

VarelliaNoel


End file.
